Kindred Spirits
by Lord PotterXXVII
Summary: Andrew returns home as the war draws to a close to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly be reunited with another woman from his past.
1. Chapter 1

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/OC. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter and All Clear.

_Authors Note: About a week ago I discovered purely by accident the fics people have written about one of my all-time favourite shows. After reading most of the work that has been written to date and quickly becoming converted to the Foyle/Sam pairing, I decided to give it a go and write my own take on how I think the series should have played out. Some of you who have contributed works to the site will probably recognize some of the fics I used to draw inspiration and I credit several including The Keep me Close series by Bookworm Kate, L'aimant by GiuliettaC and The Crash by dancesabove. All good works that are well worth reading for their richness of plot and background, and their realistic portrayal of the characters. _

Chapter 1: Reunion: May 1945

Andrew Foyle felt his insides clench with nerves as he slowly trudged up the hill towards his father's house on Steep Lane. Years spent separated from his father with only short stretches of leave and the occasional letter during what had been the worst experience of his life made Andrew feel somewhat like a stranger to him. But what made Andrew even more uneasy and rather guilty was his initial reaction to the most surprising letter he had received over 2 years ago, just prior to New Year's which had changed everything between them. He knew what was waiting for him when he considered what or as another way of expressing it, who, he knew he would find inside the house as soon he knocked.

'_I was an absolute prig, to both of them and neither of them deserved it considering what drew them together. Well then Sam, are you ready for your first meeting with your new stepson?'_

Andrew grimaced at the thought of his reception, Samantha Stewart. The bubbly honey blonde vicar's daughter who had been assigned to drive his father and had the rare combination of beauty, vivaciousness and determination which had slowly won her the heart of her employer over the course of their work together which had led to that fateful letter which had announced their engagement. It only seemed like yesterday when his father, still getting ready to go to work bade him to answer the door when he found her. As fresh as a spring day in her MTC uniform with a bright smile on her face ready to face whatever England's criminal underworld threw at her boss. Only for him to make probably the worst possible mistake and unknowingly insult what was obviously one of the most important things in her world, her job in assisting him.

Andrew grimaced at the memories of the hurt he had caused her when he ended their brief relationship in the winter of 41. How long he stood there lost in thought before the front door of the house he wasn't certain. But he was interrupted in his woolgathering when a soft voice called out to him, the clipped calm tones of a lady that ironically he had first met that very same day he first met Sam on his father's doorstep.

'Andrew?' 'Andrew Foyle is that you?'

Andrew sighed and turned on his heel as he murmured almost to himself, 'what's left of me anyway.'

That same WAAF uniform which now bore the rank of a warrant officer, the same brown hair swept up into the regulation rolls he had seen girls in uniform sporting for the entire war. The same enchanting blue eyes which were now seemingly boring into his with a look of concern. Andrew felt a lump in his throat as he thought back to his first posting at the radar station outside of Hastings where he'd met her. The strange aura of fear that seemed to grip the girls when he tried to draw out what had happened to the lost member of their team. Nearly getting shot out of the sky because of a faulty IFF unit which he still thought was the work of the group Captain in charge. The chain of events that led him to be imprisoned on what turned out to be fabricated charges designed to keep him out of the way while that bastard of a special branch copper mercilessly interrogated him about his mate Bruce and Andrew's own fleeting membership of the communist party.

'_She actually remembers me! I only knew her for about two days before she got transferred.'_

'Anne? Anne Roberts? But I thought you got transferred?'

Her lips curled into a smile as she walked up to him before she laid a hand on his arm.

'Well, it wasn't often that commanding officer's transfer trained operators just to stop them speaking to pilots. Believe me Andrew, among all the girls I ever met in the WAAF, nobody else was ever transferred for such a ridiculous injustice, of course I remember.'

Andrew's jaw dropped as he caught sight of the flash of anger in Anne's eyes, '_They transferred her to stop her talking to me! Bloody hell, I knew Keller was a cold fish but Christ. I didn't think even he'd resort to something that drastic.'_

'I've heard of lock up your daughters, but that's a bit extreme Anne, were they honestly that scared of me?' He tried to smile at his feeble joke and was pleased at the sparkle of amusement in Anne's eyes.

Anne changed the subject a moment later as she asked, 'are you alright Andrew? You were standing there for almost ten minutes.'

Andrew sighed, though the question was quite an innocent one and he knew that Anne deserved an answer, he didn't have a clue as to what would he could say that would help her understand.

'That's a long story Anne, one that's hard to explain.'

Anne smiled reassuringly at him and squeezed his arm gently, 'well I'd say we've got time, I saw your father and a blonde lady about the same age as me leave about an hour ago with a picnic basket. They had the most adorable twin girls with them.'

Andrew smiled despite the pain in his heart, 'the lady is my stepmother and the children are my little sisters, Caroline and Rose and they're a big part of the story.'

Andrew saw the astonishment but listened as Anne bade.

'Come on Andrew, how about we pop along to my aunts and we can have a cup of tea, it isn't all that far from here.'

'Will she mind if you bring me?'

'No she won't, she's been a real brick, ever since I lost my parents and I did tell her about you just before I got shipped off to the Isle of Wight.'

Andrew's eyes widened, 'you lost your parents?'

The sad look on Anne's face was all the confirmation he needed but she quickly explained.

'Back in 35, an automobile accident on the road to London. I was at school at the time but Aunt Agatha took me in and I lived with her until I volunteered for the WAAF when the war came.'

'I'm sorry Anne, losing my mum was hard enough, I couldn't imagine being without my dad as well' was all Andrew could say.

Before Andrew knew what was happening Anne had taken his hand and was leading him through the streets of the old town. They passed more bunting and more cheerful crowds until they came upon a neat little shop that Andrew remembered his mother taking him into a few times when he'd gone shopping with her as a boy. He opened the door to the tinkling chorus of a bell and allowed Anne to precede him before he walked through the door and came face to face with a cheerful looking woman of about his father's age as she stepped out from behind the counter.

'Oh, Annie you're back already dear? Who's this handsome young man?'

Andrew saw the blush on Anne's face but he spoke to the kindly woman.

'I'm Andrew Foyle ma'am, I'm an old friend of Anne's.'

The woman looked to be scrutinising him for a moment before she smiled warmly, 'I thought you looked familiar, and Foyle isn't the most common name. You've definitely grown since I last saw you in here my boy.'

Anne looked surprised, 'you know Andrew Auntie?'

Agatha beamed 'Oh yes dear, his mother Rosalind was a frequent customer and she sometimes brought young Andrew with her to help carry her shopping. Samantha's been a regular as well, the dear.'

Andrew smiled sheepishly as he remembered those days, not long before the illness which had so suddenly claimed his mother's life had struck her down.

'_Wow, talk about small world, both my mother's are regulars at the same flower shop.' _Andrew thought.

Agatha looked at him closely and said, 'you're looking peaky dear, you need feeding and rest.'

Turning towards Anne she suggested, 'why not pop the kettle on Annie? I'll leave you both to chat, business has been brisk with all the demobs buying flowers for their wives and mothers.'

Andrew politely thanked the kindly florist before Anne took him up a flight of stairs to a tastefully decorated flat where she busied herself with a kettle. Anne soon joined him at the table carrying a tray with the tea things and soon set a steaming cup and some biscuits before him.

'This is jolly decent of you Anne, thanks.'

Anne waved it off, 'no Andrew, it's the least I can do. You looked, lost. Just like all the others I've seen coming back today.'

Andrew sipped his tea and ate one of the biscuits before he sighed, 'it's not just the war and having been away for so long. I've lost so many friends, here one day gone the next. Best of the best they called us, but I don't know.'

'I understand Andrew, while you were in the air we were tracking you, every time the pilots were in range we could hear them over the radio because we often had to issue bearings when pilots got disorientated. I know it isn't the same as actually having been there in the middle of it, but listening to it was hard enough for us. I know a few of my friends were unlucky enough to hear their boyfriend's last words.'

Andrew saw her shudder and shook his head, 'no, you're right and I'm sorry you had to hear that.'

'Fortunes of war Andrew, we suffered losses as well' Anne sighed, 'there's no point feeling guilty for surviving when others didn't because it was beyond any of our control. All we can do is make the best of the future for their sake as well as ours and always honour the memory of those we lost.'

'_That is deep, but she's absolutely right_. _Damn that Keller, if Anne had stayed in Hastings I'd have kept a far clearer head about all this, maybe I wouldn't have been a total BF about Sam and Violet_' Andrew thought with a grimace.

'So basically you're saying think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.'

Anne smiled, 'that's right. But Andrew, why are you so worried about seeing your father and stepmother? I met your father once and he seemed like a nice man to me.'

'You met him Anne?'

'Yes, I came to say goodbye to you, just before I was about to leave, but you weren't there. He asked me a couple of questions about the radar station but I couldn't tell him much though and I really regretted that. I wanted justice for Lucy just as much as he did.'

Andrew hurriedly explained his absence before he noticed the anger in Anne's eyes as she huffed.

'They really wanted to make sure, didn't they? Damn that swine Grahame, I'd love to shake the hand of the man who killed him.'

Andrew remembered what his father had told him after he'd finally been released and they'd left the station after the raid and silently agreed.

Andrew took a deep breath before he began, 'Anne, the reason why I'm scared to see my father is because of a set to we had over Sam, she's the lady you saw with him.'

Anne stayed silent encouraging him to go on and so Andrew began, 'you see, for a time, before I was transferred up north Sam and I were walking out together. In hindsight it probably would have been better if we hadn't because she was in love with my father the whole time. After I transferred, in my stupidity I broke things off with her because I met someone up there, not a patch on Sam, but I was lonely and pilots, well…. How can I put this politely?'

Anne smiled, 'have a reputation Andrew, oh don't worry about that. I know all about what you flyboys were like. I never fell prey myself but some of my friends did and war makes fools even of the most well brought up people, rushing into all kinds of things they'd normally take time over. I can see you genuinely regret whatever hurt you caused the girls you stepped out with, so that makes you better than some of the other pilots I saw.

Andrew grinned before his face fell as he continued, 'so anyway, just after new year's day in 43 I got a letter from my father to say that he and Sam were engaged to be married and I got really angry and sent back a rather nasty letter. I'd heard all kinds of stories about girls in the services being preyed upon by men in positions of power, I'd even seen the evidence with my own eyes a few times. I pretty much accused my dad of the same crime as that slimy bastard Grahame and towards Sam of all people who I knew for a fact was so dutiful and dedicated in her work for him. Even though I wasn't walking out with her then, I still cared about her and wanted what was best for her.'

Anne looked sad, 'oh yes, that would be awkward wouldn't it, love triangles can be tricky at the best of times.'

'Yeah, but afterwards when I'd had some time to think about it, I realised that I was wrong. My dad would never be the sort to take advantage of the trust of a young woman under his command and I guessed that out of the two of them it was probably Sam who gave him the nudge out of the door so to speak. I remember the first time I took Sam out, a lot of our conversation centred on him. The look in her eyes when we were talking about him, which was never the look of admiration for a distinguished hero or a father figure. I remembered how later on when I went AWOL, the whole time I was hiding out with her she was urging me to go and see him because he'd understand how I was feeling then. He would have too, he fought in the first war and would have seen some of the bloodiest battles on the Western front probably saw what happened to the men there. To be honest back then if I'd been much worse I'd have probably ended up at Graylingwell.'

Anne blinked away tears 'Oh Andrew, I'm so sorry, I can't even begin to imagine what must have driven you to that.'

Andrew shrugged, 'Dad persuaded me to give myself up in the end, and the Wing co was a decent chap. Let me off with a warning, promoted me, and reassigned me to an instructor's job for a while to help me settle down and clear my head. So anyway, just when I'd decided to write home and apologize for being an absolute prig I got shipped off to Malta and the letter I sent home from there was sunk when the bloody ship got torpedoed. Time passed and I got scared to write again even though they sent me letters and in the end. I ended up in hospital with sinusitis and when I finally got out they ended up clipping my wings and sending me back home.'

Andrew saw the tears in Anne's eyes and stood up before drawing her into his embrace. He held her and gently stroked her back before she drew away looking rather embarrassed.

'Didn't mean to go to pieces like that Andrew.'

Andrew waved it off, 'not your fault Anne, I'm a bit better now but it'll be awhile before I'm really back to normal.'

'You can't let this destroy what you have with your father Andrew, falling out over a misunderstanding it's just….Wrong, you need to patch this up.'

'I know, you're right, but…'

'But what Andrew? You can't avoid this,' Andrew saw the fierce look and knew she wouldn't budge, 'you made a stupid mistake and you know it was wrong, the best you can do is make up for it. You'll be stronger for it Andrew once the air is clear, now come on.'

Anne determinedly took his hand and drew him from his seat before leading him downstairs after he'd grabbed his kit bag where he came face to face with Agatha whose eyes were glistening.

'I couldn't help overhearing dear and Annie's right, you need to settle this so you can move forward. Your father's a good man Andrew, he'll understand and Sam is an absolute peach, she might box your ears but she'll forgive you once you explain yourself.'

A large bouquet was soon pressed into Andrew's hand and Anne said.

'Come back tomorrow Andrew, you can tell me how it went and take me out for lunch.'

Andrew grinned, '_things are definitely looking up_.'

'I will, til tomorrow then.'

The two women waved him off and Andrew strode back up Steep Lane towards the house where he knocked on the door, Sam opening it almost at once.

'_Motherhood definitely suits her.'_ He thought as he assessed the sight of his father's former driver, now wife. The pink dress she wore looked much more flattering than the MTC uniform and her hair was a bit longer and fell in loose waves over her shoulders. She looked a bit curvier than he remembered, but still had the same endearing face and dark eyes which seemed to be able to see into his very soul.

'Andrew!' she gasped.


	2. Chapter 2

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/OC. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter and All Clear.

_Authors Note: Wow! Three reviews in less than 24 hours, 2 of them from well-established greats of the genre. Thank you very much as I'm quite flattered by the response and the agreement with some of my observations. Don't worry about the lack of Foyle and Sam, the next few chapters will be full of the two key protagonists of the series as their tales are weaved in my alternate vision. I know it was Brookie who Sam saw first in Bleak Midwinter, I just switched it to suit the story._

Chapter 2: May 1945/ December 1942: Cry Havoc and Let Loose the Dogs of War

Andrew grinned at the sight of Sam looking at him in disbelief before she reached out with a much stronger grip than he remembered and pulled him inside before she shut the door. Pulling him into the living room after Andrew had dropped his kit bag she was very quick to admonish him as Sam hissed, her dark eyes glaring into his own.

'Andrew Charles Foyle, have you got any bloody idea how worried your father and I have been? 2 years with not a dicky bird.'

Despite the anger in Sam's eyes, Andrew couldn't help but joke.

'Wow, the full name treatment! I don't think I've had that out of dad since I was out of short trousers.'

A stinging slap to his face brought him back to the reality however as Sam continued her tirade.

'You think this is funny Andrew?'

Andrew grimaced and began, 'no, look Sam, I know I was stupid but that letter just came out of nowhere and he expected me to just suddenly accept the fact that he was marrying a woman half his age without so much as a by your leave? I tried to write and apologise but one thing after another stopped me and before I knew it I got demobbed.'

Sam sighed, 'sorry Andrew, I shouldn't have hit you but….'

'No, it's alright Sam I deserved it. Here, I brought you flowers.'

Andrew passed over the bouquet and Sam's face turned up into a smile.

'Oh Andrew there lovely, where did you get them?'

'Oh the little place over on _Street, Mrs Roberts gave them to me. Apparently all the demobs have been clearing her out. '

Sam's face was curious, 'what were you doing there Andrew? Hardly the place I'd expect to see you go into.'

'Mum took me a few times when I had to help her carry shopping, Mrs Roberts has got a niece who was in the WAAF. An old friend of mine actually, and I ran into her on the way here. Took me for a cup of tea and insisted I tell her what was wrong.'

'Sounds like a nice girl, do sit down while I find something for these.'

As Sam walked over to the kitchen, Andrew sank gratefully into the familiar armchair where he remembered many fireside talks with his father. He gazed about the room which looked almost as if it hadn't changed beyond a few new framed photographs showing Sam and his father and the usual paraphernalia which tended to accumulate around houses with small children.

Sam came back and sat on the settee before she fixed him with a look of doubt as Andrew asked.

'Where's dad? I know he's got the day off on Saturday's and he usually does his fishing on a Sunday.'

Andrew saw the smile return to Sam's face, 'oh he's upstairs checking on the girls, he should be down in a minute.'

Sure enough, Andrew saw his father come down the stairs with a smile on his face which widened as he caught sight of his son.

'Andrew.'

Andrew smiled, 'hello dad.'

There was a pause as the two men surveyed each other before the elder remarked.

'wwarm welcome?'

Andrew saw his dad's eyes lingering on his reddened cheek and waved it off, 'it's alright dad, and I definitely deserved it. I know I was an absolute beast about you and Sam and in fact, once I thought about it I realized that the two of you make a good match.'

'Rrright, glad you think so, little late some might say.'

Sam added, 'might? Definitely would be the word I would choose Christopher.'

Andrew saw the teasing smile his father directed towards his wife as he said.

'Wwell, at least he's here and in one piece and we can be grateful for that. Caro and Rosie deserve to meet their brother, they'll be needing a good protector to beat off the boys when they're older. Doesn't mean he gets off Scott free however.'

Sam giggled and Andrew smiled at the byplay between the two, '_How did I miss this? In hindsight it's as clear as bloody crystal.'_

Andrew spoke up, 'I owe you both an explanation and in fact I've been more or less ordered to give you one.'

'Wwwell, how about we have dinner and you can tell us everything, there's a lot I should probably tell you as well. Lucky I caught so many trout as between you and Sam I doubt our larder will withstand the siege for very long.'

'You know me darling, I need the energy to keep up with you and our girls,' was Sam's teasing response.'

An arched eyebrow was his only reaction and Andrew couldn't help but laugh as he said.

'I should have encouraged you two to go to Gretna Green years ago, this is just uncanny. Does god do a special side business of sending the perfect women to lonely police officers?'

'Tempting as that would have been Andrew, I'd have preferred not to have been attacked by my new in laws as soon as we returned. Iain would have probably strung me up when he found us.'

Sam giggled, 'he would never, he would at least have given you a head start.'

A few hours later the proud parents brought down two identical cherubs who looked a bit over a year old and put them into their highchairs for their dinner and Andrew goggled at the sight of the two treasures as they both instantly stole his heart. Both had Sam's curly blonde hair and freckles and his father's steely blue/grey eyes and apparently the curious personality of both parents as both twins immediately fixed their gazes on him, seemingly sizing him up.

'They're adorable dad, better get your gun polished and ready.' was Andrews praise as he grinned down at them both, watching as Sam fed them.

Dinner proceeded amiably and Andrew enjoyed the fresh trout that was served and while helping his dad clear up, the elder Foyle asked.

'This just a visit, or are you back for good?'

Andrew grinned, 'I'm not flying anymore, had a touch of sinusitis, well more than a touch. It was bloody painful, after I got out of hospital I was on desk duty for a while until they decided to send me home. But let's wait for Sam before we swap stories, I'd rather only tell mine one more time today.'

With the dishes dried and put away, Andrew followed his father into the living room where he noticed a bottle on the shelf.

'Full bottle of scotch, where on earth did you get that?'

'Well it's bourbon.'

'Aaah, Americans.'

With a carefully measured glass in his hand, Andrew relaxed as Sam came back down from settling the twins to sit beside his father, and soon Andrew began to tell the same story he'd told Anne earlier in the day. Andrew saw his father's impassive face during the telling and had no idea what he was thinking, Sam on the other hand was much easier to read. The compassion clear in her eyes as she surveyed her stepson.

When he'd finally finished his story Sam was the first to speak.

'I'm sorry Andrew, now I think about it we probably should have done more to help you understand. It all happened so quickly, I couldn't stand waiting any longer. It was a bit rotten of us to think you'd accept it without question.'

Andrew finally asked the question that had been on his lips for over two years, as he grinned at her 'so, how did you give my father the push out of the door Sam?'

Andrew saw the same look of twinkly eyed fondness that he'd seen directed at him many times as he'd been growing up as his father looked at his wife as he spoke.

'Wwell, I suspose it all began one morning when Sam tried to impress me with an interest in classics and her powers of observation.'

**December 1942: **

'You've found something, haven't you?' Sam asked cheerily as she kept her eyes on the road as they neared the destination of the munitions plant where the suspicious explosion had killed Grace Philips.

'Have I?'

'I can always tell, you have this look, a sort of "cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war."

After a few moments silence she continued, 'that's Julius Caesar.'

'Slip,' Foyle corrected fondly, 'its "let slip the dogs of war."'

A moment later the pair were interrupted by the hissing sound of steam billowing from the bonnet of the Wolseley.'

A prim curse of 'oh, hell,' was Sam's reaction when she realised what had happened to the car entrusted to her care once she'd stopped and gotten out to inspect the engine grill.

'Radiator?' was the only word her employer needed.

Sam nodded wanly, 'radiator.'

'_Oh no, now look what I've done, and right on Christmas too. It'll be a miracle if I can get it fixed before New Year's.'_

'Looks like I'm on foot from here.'

'I'm sorry sir.'

Foyle waved it off, 'can you make it as far as a garage?'

'I hope so,' was Sam's response as she gazed at the stricken car which was leaking more steam than a kettle.

Sam watched with a heavy heart and a fond smile as her employer smiled at her and walked away towards the factory.

'_Could he have been any sweeter about this? That old dragon would have roasted me and had me for lunch if I'd split a radiator, even if it wasn't my fault.'_

Settling back into the driver's seat, Sam restarted the engine and drove slowly, keeping a wary eye on her temperature gauge as she looked for a garage. A short while later she spotted one and so pulled the Wolseley to a halt outside the premises of an N&amp;E Johnson from which she could hear the sounds of metal being beaten at a forge. Walking through the door she found a familiar looking young man hammering at a piece of metal whom she soon remembered.

'_The funeral, he was the one who made that speech.'_

'Hello,' she greeted, 'I'm sorry to bother you but it's my car.'

'I wondered if you could help, it seems I have a split radiator.'

'Sorry, I can't to nothing for you, it's a private garage and we're full,' was his dismissing response.'

Sam tried her next idea. 'Well if you could seal it even briefly, you see this is a police vehicle so it sort of takes priority.'

'You the police?' There was an edge in his voice now that made Sam a bit nervous.

'Yes,' was her answer, 'do I know you from somewhere?' She stepped forward, 'I do don't you, you were at the funeral, you're Grace Philip's friend.'

'What of it?'

'Well you seemed so obviously upset, you were going to be married?'

'Maybe.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Why was you there?'

'Well it is difficult to explain.'

'You was there, and now you're here. What's your game?'

Same felt more nervous as she saw him step closer brandishing a heavy piece of metal.

'Nothing, I told you my car's broken.'

'Nice and convenient.'

'I was near here and I saw your garage first and if you're too busy to mend it, I quite understand I'll just take it elsewhere.'

'You're not going anywhere.' He demanded

'Now wait a minute,' Sam pleaded.

Another young man entered and did his best to try and talk the first one down.

Sam's eyes widened in terror as a fight soon began as the first man tried to attack her before the second shoved her aside and urged her to get out. Adrenalin surged through her and forgetting the car she ran, terror giving her wings until she found herself running through the door of the police station.

Foyle had just dismissed the traitorous PC Perkins and had bade Sergeant Brooke to put him in a cell when he saw his normally vivacious and neatly turned out driver run right into the station as if she was being pursued by the very Devil himself.

'_Oh my god! Who or what did this to her? Oh my dearest Sam, I'm so sorry.'_

'Sir, he's mad, he's quite mad!'

Her eyes caught his and she ran right into him and began to cry unrestrainedly into his shoulder.

Foyle gently wrapped his arms around the slender young woman crying into his shoulder and whispered soothingly.

'Sssh, it's alright Sam, it's over, and you're safe now. I'm here and you're going to be fine.'

Brooke had clearly come back from putting Peters in a cell as he called out urgently.

'Sir, is Miss Stewart alright?'

Foyle looked over her shoulder and said, 'nnno, I'm not sure what's happened here but what's clear is that she's had a nasty shock. Get one of the constables to make some tea, use my sugar if you need to and bring it to my office and then you'd better get onto Hugh. If we've got a dangerous criminal we might need to get permission to use firearms once we find out who did this. I'll take care of Sam, it's my fault she's in this state.'

Brooke sped off to carry out his orders, but took one look at the sight of his boss whispering soothing words into Miss Stewart's ear.

'_Cor blimey! What ever 'appened must've been bad to do this to 'er. I just hope the boss doesn't let morality get in the way, she need's 'im bad. Them two should just tell each other they're mad about each other and 'ave done wiv it.'_

Passing a couple of constables on the way to the super's office he hissed to Harrison.

'Biggles, get some tea made, quick like and get it to the boss's office. You know how Miss Stewart takes 'ers, give 'er the boss's sugar ration cause I know she's run out and he said to. Oh and knock before you take it in there.'

Harrison nodded and sped off towards the station kitchen as Brook continued towards the super's office.

Meanwhile Foyle gently led Sam inside his office and shut the door as the flow of her tears began to lessen before he drew a chair and gently guided it beneath her and urged.

'Here Samantha, sit down now, thaat's it my dear.'

While her breath was still coming in hiccupping gasps, she looked to be slowly settling down but it was a while before Foyle was able to draw away long enough to get his desk chair and place it besides Sam's before he gently lifted her chin so that she was looking into his eyes and began with a heavy heart.

'I'm sorry Sam, this is my fault, but if you feel up to it can you tell me what happened?'

Some measure of her strength had returned as she fixed him with a steely glare and said, 'no Christopher, this was not your fault and don't you dare say otherwise.'

Momentarily taken aback by her brazen use of his Christian name he was caught off guard as she took a deep shuddering breath and continued.

'I found a garage, not far from the munitions plant and I found Grace Philip's young man. As soon as I mentioned the fact I worked for the police he went totally off his rocker and he tried to kill me. The only reason he didn't was because another man came in and shoved me aside.'

Sam's eyes widened and a fresh wave of tears emerged, 'Oh no Christopher, he's probably dead, he died because of me!'

She broke down again and Foyle gathered her into his arms and rubbed her back.

'No Sam, he died because this man killed him, not you. You were just unlucky to be in the right place at the wrong time.'

Despite her shock, Sam gave him a watery smile, 'don't you mean the wrong place sir?'

'No Sam,' said Foyle fondly, 'thanks to you I'm pretty sure who killed Grace, and Jane Milner and we have a location we can search to find out for what his plans might be and what his name is. If we're very lucky we might even find him and arrest him when we get there.'

Sam took a deep breath, a nervous look on her face as she looked at her boss.

'_I can't stand this any longer, I have to tell him. I came so close to death today, to die without at least telling him how I feel would have been…'_

'Christopher, there's something I need to tell you….'

Foyle perked up and looked deeply into her eyes which had always shown affection, mischief, happiness and so many sunny emotions that he'd long associated with her now bore a new look, one that he hadn't seen directed at him since his beloved Rosalind had passed away.'

'_Is she about to…? Surely not, she's had to beat the young men off with a stick since she's been stationed here. Half the uniforms in the station are probably in love with her, she wouldn't want to waste herself on someone like me.'_

A knock came at the door and Sam sighed as Mr Foyle bade the visitor to enter revealing the moustachioed form of Constable Harrison bearing a rattling tea tray from which he drew two cups and placed them on the desk close to the two occupants in the room.

Sam gratefully drank hers, feeling quite flattered when she realised that her dear Christopher had indeed given up his sugar ration for her and she felt in somewhat better spirits when Brookie came in a few minutes later and said.

'Sir, the supers been on the blower to the brass, you have got permission to use firearms if necessary.'

Sam saw Christopher nod grimly to Brookie and order in his usual calm tones.

'Get a squad ready, we'll head to the garage as soon as Sam's feeling up to directing us to it.'

Brookie hurried off and Sam turned back to Christopher, 'just give me a few minutes to fix my hair sir. We can't let that murderer get away with this.'

Foyle laid a hand on her shoulder and said, 'take as long as you need Sam, don't you worry, he will face justice, I promise.'


	3. Chapter 3

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/OC. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter and All Clear.

_Authors Note: __I'm amazed at the response I've been getting on this fic which is partly why I've been updating so quickly. Full credit acknowledged to antipholusluciana's fic Brookie's Christmas Mischief for where I got the idea for some of the events that take place here. Yes it is true that married women could serve as nurses with some allied forces in the Great War. Look for a show called Anzac Girls which does cover the issue in quite a bit of depth._

Chapter 3: December 1942: A helping Hand

Barely fifteen minutes later after Sam had left Mr Foyle's office in much better spirits than when she'd entered it. She was sitting in the driver's seat of one of the two marked police cars which were being dispatched to the garage. She could feel the gentle pressure on the small of her back and without needing to look knew that her dear Christopher was resting his hand across the back of the seat as he often did while they drove. She doubted that he realized he was doing it but she was never going to tell him as she had always found it endearing and a great comfort when they were working on the more difficult cases. As they drew closer to the garage she listened to Mr Foyle giving instructions to the uniformed police sitting in the back.

'Rrright, now remember that this man is dangerous and quite possibly armed so I don't want anybody taking unnecessary risks. Keep each other in sight at all times and nobody goes anywhere alone inside the building until we either subdue him or we discover he isn't there.'

The men murmured in agreement and a few minutes later, Sam pulled the car to a stop besides the abandoned Wolseley and waited until Christopher and the uniformed officers from both cars had assembled by the door. When she got out of the car, Christopher bade her gently.

'Best keep back Sam, I already almost lost you once today. Rrrather not tempt fate twice so quickly.'

'Be careful sir.'

A broad smile was his response and Sam felt her heart flutter as she watched him reach into his overcoat and draw out a Webley revolver and lead the men into the building. A sudden voice from one of the constables inside made the guilt all the worse for Sam as her fears for her unknown saviour were suddenly realised.

'Sir, we've got a deadun over here. Looks like he's been stabbed pretty recently, the poor sod.'

Christopher's voice was the next she heard, 'rrright, well no sign of our killer so we'll need to find the owner, call for the MO to establish the precise time of death. Then we'll need to conduct a search, see if we can get an identity of our man.'

Running footsteps from behind her heralded the arrival of a man a bit older than Christopher who took one look at the assembled police, the shock and disbelief clear on his face as he asked Sam.

'What's going on here Miss?'

Sam tried to be as calm as she could even as the memories flashed in her mind as she answered, 'I'm afraid there's been a murder sir, a young man's just been found dead inside.'

The man's face darkened, 'it was Harry wasn't it, he done this didn't he?'

Sam nodded solemnly, knowing without being asked who "Harry" was before she asked him.

'Who are you sir? I'm afraid this is a crime scene and we can't let anyone in at the moment.'

'I'm Neville Johnson, this is my garage.'

Sam quickly spoke to the constables guarding the door who soon let the man inside, his voice now joining the conversation she could hear from inside as the officers searched the building. Christopher and Mr Johnson went out the back to search a flat and Sam stood by the car trying to rub some warmth into her hands against the chill of the air. She wasn't sure how long it was but eventually the two men came out of the garage. Christopher bore his trademark "cry havoc" look that told her he'd found what he'd been looking for while Mr Johnson looked grim.

Feeling a bit sorry for him, Sam walked over and asked, 'sorry to bother you again, but I still do need my car mended. Before Harry tried to kill me he did say you were full, do you know anybody nearby who could fix our Wolseley? I do need it back so I can do my job.'

He looked rather confused, but popped open the bonnet of the Wolseley and took a quick look at the damaged radiator before he straightened up and began.

'Well, first of all I'm sorry about what happened to you Miss, your boss just told me everything. My fault for employing the little bastard in the first place. But you're in luck about the car because a few days ago a friend of mine sold me a Wolseley, the chassis is a wreck but most of the parts are still good so I'm stripping it down for spares. I'll get yours fixed by tomorrow morning, free of charge, and I'll even deliver it to the nick for you.'

'We couldn't possibly...' Sam tried to protest.

The old mechanic waved her off and Sam felt a hand on her shoulder as Christopher praised.

'Well done Sam.'

Sam spent the drive back to the station in silence, feeling rather guilty about Eric Clayton, the image of the ambulance men carrying out the body with a sheet covering it etched firmly in her mind. Foyle noticed the subdued mood on Sam's face and had a fairly good idea what was wrong with her.

'_Oh Sam, oh my poor darling. This is exactly why I try and keep you away from danger, but no matter how hard I try...'_

Foyle's face twisted into a grimace as he remembered all the time's he'd nearly been responsible for the death of the remarkable young woman sitting to his right.

'_First Jerry nearly kills us in that pub, then Jerry bombs her house, then I nearly send her to her death in Bexhill and now this. Maybe I should just send her back to Lyminster, she won't be happy but at least she'll be safe. I've been so selfish wanting her near me…'_

When they got back to the station, Foyle made a few phone calls to neighbouring jurisdictions putting out Harry's description to ensure he couldn't leave Hastings before he began to work on the paperwork to officially clear Milner of involvement in his wife's death. After he began drafting reports on the events of that day, Sam came into his office bringing him a cup of tea and he had a sudden unpleasant thought triggered by long buried memories of the trenches and the aftermath of battles fought long ago.

'_She'll be having nightmares and quite possibly delayed shock about this, I'd better check that her landlady can look after her.'_

As Sam put the cup down on his desk, Foyle tentatively asked her.

'Sam? I don't mean to pry but will your landlady be able to take care of you tonight? You've had a horrible time of it today and you really shouldn't be on your own.'

Sam looked surprised but he saw the fear marring her eyes as she said.

'Oh golly, I didn't think of that. Mrs West has gone to Surrey for Christmas to be with her family and she won't be back until after New Year's. I told mummy I'd be taking the train home on Christmas Eve.'

'Nnnot acceptable, you really shouldn't be on your own, not after today Sam. You can stay with me if you want to.'

Her eyes lit up as she beamed at him, 'oh thank you sir, that's very generous of you.'

Foyle smiled, glad to be able to help and soon led Sam out of the station and up towards Steep Lane soon offering his coat when he noticed her shivering beside him. Setting her down in the chair before the fire, Foyle busied himself warming the house before he surveyed her face. Sam looked quite calm and contented, but as Foyle remembered her last stay he realised.

'_She's probably hungry, god knows after today she deserves a good dinner. I wonder if I've still got any of that 38 Bordeaux Charles sent me just before the war. A glass or two of wine should help her sleep, and Andrew cleared out the last of the Glenlivet last time he was on leave.'_

The phone rang distracting him from his train of thought and Foyle said, 'I'll deal with this Sam and then see what I can find in the larder. You'll be needing a good meal after today.'

Sam giggled, 'how well you know me sir.'

Foyle raised a finger, 'we're off duty Sam.'

He hurried off to the phone and Sam soon realised it was Milner on the other end as she could make out Christopher's half of the conversation.

'We know who did it….Tried to kill Sam when she took the car in…I know, I'm not sure how much more I can take and it gets worse every time… She's here…Don't want her on her own after what happened… You were a soldier Milner you must have seen what happened in the aftermath of battle… No, I did ask and her landladies in Surrey… I'll keep her here until Christmas Eve…Yes, it was Constable Peters… I want you back in tomorrow…Yes, thank you, good night Paul.'

Foyle put the phone down and smiled as he realised that Sam had been listening.

'_Always wanted to be a detective, didn't you my curious nymph.'_

Aloud he told her, 'that was Milner, wanting to know what happened and how you were.'

'He's a good man Christopher. What Peters did to him was awful.'

Foyle couldn't agree more but figured he'd best get the dinner on and so hurried into his kitchen and made the best meal his culinary skills and rationing allowed before he reached into the very back of the larder and pulled out a dusty bottle of wine.

It was worth the sacrifice just to see the way Sam's eyes lit up as he brought it to the table along with their dinner Foyle thought. The pleasant conversation, a good meal and a beautiful woman in his house brought back memories of so many evenings he'd shared with Rosalind before Andrew had been born. But Sam was no Rosalind, no, she had so many of her own unique qualities that he couldn't help but realise just how much he loved her even if he knew in all good conscience that he didn't deserve her love. Sam herself felt like a princess as she ate and drank her way through the veritable feast he provided. Her dear Christopher was spoiling her rotten and it made her wish she could just reach across and pull him into her arms and show him how much she loved him. Even though she realized his nobility would probably never allow him to return her feelings. After the dishes had been put away and the two of them were relaxing by the fire, Sam sighed in contentment as she looked across at him.

'_Oh Christopher, if you only knew….'_

Foyle noticed a while later that Sam had fallen asleep on the settee with a beaming smile on her face. He quickly found a blanket and covered her before pressing a kiss to her temple and sitting back in his armchair where he soon fell into a doze before the warm fire…

Meanwhile Paul Milner had just returned to his home from another enjoyable evening with Edith. The telephone call he'd just assumed would be a quick routine update turned out to be anything but as he learned of the shocking events that had happened that day. Edith had been horrified when he'd explained what he'd learned, but what had been worse was his superior's tone of helplessness as he'd discussed his driver's state of mind.

Like all the officers in Hastings, Paul had quickly learned of the uncommonly close bond between his boss and the young woman. Paul himself had always thought of Sam as something like a younger sister and had never felt any attraction to her. But he could see the underlying tension between her and Mr Foyle as clearly as daylight just like all the others, he'd seen its strength even more clearly since he had begun courting Edith.

'_He won't bring himself to tell her he loves her because he thinks it would be improper for a man of his age and she won't tell him she loves him because she thinks he would never return her feelings. Honestly, this is getting unbearable, even Mr Reid agreed that the pair would suit each other well.'_

His mind made up on the subject, Paul began to think of a way to try and encourage the pair to admit their feelings and suddenly it came to him as he grinned.

'_Christmas, of course…. I know just the thing, Mr Foyle is a man of habit so I should be able to beat him into the station tomorrow, especially if Sam is without the car.'_

Milner fell asleep and next morning after getting ready he hurriedly followed his usual route to the station, stopping in a park and giving some coins to a couple of children to acquire the materials he needed for his plan. Luckily when he got to the station he found that Mr Foyle had not yet arrived and after a whispered conversation with Brookie which set the Londoner sniggering, he quickly fetched a stepladder…

A short while later, Foyle led Sam into the station and felt confused as he realized that the building was unusually quiet. Beyond Brooke at the desk he couldn't see anybody else around but put it out of his mind as he walked towards his office. As Foyle opened his office door he heard Sam's giggle from behind him just as instinct made him look up.

A bunch of mistletoe had been hung up just beyond the doorway and he was now standing directly underneath it.

'_Brooke, why am I not surprised? At least nobodies watching.'_

Sam had seen her chance and like a cat stalking a mouse, she pounced. As she drew closer to Christopher and rested her arms on his shoulders she could see the mild look of panic in his eyes.'

Sam purred 'surely you're not going to refuse a kiss under the mistletoe are you sir? It's bad luck.'

'Sam, I…'

But his power of speech was gone and on instinct he drew Sam close and kissed her, his long held dreams of doing this to her and Sam's mewing sounds of pleasure fuelling his passion as he felt her arms encircle his neck. Eternity seemed to stretch before him but the need to breathe made him draw away. His guilt sapping his earlier pleasure as he looked into Sam's flushed and radiant face. Somehow she seemed to be able to read his mind and said.

'I know what you're going to say? You're too old and I'd only be wasting myself on you and there's young men aplenty who'd be able to give me what you can't and the people will gossip. You can put that right out of your mind Christopher because it's utter rot.'

Foyle's eyes widened and he tried to speak, 'Sam…'

A finger to his lips quietened him, 'I know you care for me Christopher so don't try and deny it, I've seen it every single day I've worked with you. You aren't too old for me, in fact I think you're just perfect and in case you don't know, my dad is fifteen years older than mummy. Dad lost his first wife to a gas attack in the first war, she was serving with the French army as a nurse you see. They'd only been married a few months when it happened and dad was devastated, it's one of the main reasons why he joined the church.'

Foyle felt more and more of his objections dropping by the moment, as if Sam had fired a full artillery salvo into the brick wall that had he seemingly built around himself since Rosalind had died and blown it to pieces.

He knew she was right, '_You shared a beautiful life with Rosalind, and doesn't Sam deserve the same? To lose her without at least giving her what you gave to Rosalind..'_

Foyle pulled Sam into his arms and said, 'you're right Sam, it's just hard. I never thought I'd ever meet anybody who could really accept me for who I am after Roz. But you do my sweet Samantha.'

Sam giggled and kissed him again before Foyle drew away and said, 'this won't be easy, this isn't exactly the done thing. I am your employer, and I doubt the A/C would be too pleased, nnnot to forget Andrew, it could make him a bit awkward.'

'We'll manage Christopher, don't forget that with the shortage of staff I doubt they'll be able to find you a new driver and with all the grief they've put you through I think they owe you a few favours. As for Andrew, what right does he have to object?'

Foyle laughed fondly, 'I really never stood a chance against you, did I Sam?'

'No, and I'm jolly well glad to hear you admit it.'

They held each other, sharing small kisses and endearments glad to be free of the burden until a knock came at the door and Sam and Foyle drew apart as Milner came in.

Milner surveyed the obvious new lovers while trying to keep a straight face.

'_Lipstick marks on his neck and collar, her hair is missing a few pins and they're both looking like the cat that got the cream. I'd say it worked and about time too.'_

'Sir, we got a call about a disturbance in town. Banging noises coming from a bank.'

'Rrright, has Neville Johnson turned up with the Wolseley?'

'Yes sir, he dropped it off a few minutes ago.'

'Good, we'll get some uniforms and go investigate, oh and by the way. Tell Brooke to take down the mistletoe while we're out, he's made his point.'

Milner grinned, 'yes sir, but it wasn't Brooke who put it there, I did it.'

Foyle smiled, 'Wwell done, looks like I owe you a favour then.'


	4. Chapter 4

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/OC. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter and All Clear.

_Authors Note: Once again, thank you to all of you who have been reviewing especially the more eagle eyed of you who've been spotting the small but significant fragments weaved into the tale. Canon never explains precisely when Parkins takes the A/C's job prior to Casualties of War so I'm guessing it was March 43 when that episode is set and thus in December 42 it's still his rather corrupt predecessor from A war of Nerves._

Chapter 4: May 1945/December 1942: Auld Lang Syne

'Unbelievable,' gaped Andrew, 'utterly unbelievable, Christ, no wonder you both… Now when I think about it, everything fits together perfectly. Now I really feel like an idiot for missing it.'

Foyle's eyebrow rose as he grinned at Andrew, 'wwell, you were busy Andrew, couldn't have expected you to notice everything at going on at home while Goering was still doing his best to blow us up and shoot you out of the sky.'

Andrew couldn't help but agree and laughed when Sam added, 'head too high in the clouds to notice what was happening on the ground.'

'Pretty much, so what happened next? I take it dad caught the chap who did it?'

'Yep, bit of a gangster wannabe, tried to rob a bank by breaking a hole through the wall in the basement of the adjoining hairdressers before trying to blow open a safe. Unfortunately for him, what he thought was nitro glycerine turned out to be Glycerol and I was able to arrest him without having to fire a shot even after he tried to smash it and blow us both and his hostage up.'

Sam fixed Foyle with a look of disapproval, 'a little more warning that you knew the explosives weren't real might have been nice Christopher. I was worried sick, honestly, going in alone to arrest a serial killer.

Sam shivered in remembrance and Foyle drew her close against him before he said.

'Wwell, considering what we knew about him and the fact he had a hostage made backup too much of a risk. I do agree it was reckless, but it was the best option out of the few I had that day.'

Sam sighed knowing he was right, 'alright, but Christopher, you really shouldn't keep these things to yourself. It's dangerous out there and what would Andrew, me, and our girls do without you.'

Andrew couldn't help but feel touched as he watched his father and Sam in their affection but cleared his throat after a few minutes to let them know he was still in the room and asked.

'So what happened next? After you'd got him.'

Sam's eyes misted in happiness, 'your father and I started walking out, we never flaunted it while we were on duty and we were able to keep things under our hats. Everyone at the station probably knew though considering what Paul admitted. Just after I came back from Lyminster, I stared getting a little bit suspicious when I noticed your father popping out on "errands" more often than usual, though I was quite blown out of the water on New Year's Eve when I finally realised what he'd been up to.'

Foyle's eyes twinkled, 'didn't want to be too predictable my dear and I vividly remember that you certainly enjoyed it, as did the Reid's and their other guests.'

Sam giggled and kissed him, 'I'll say.'

**31****st**** December 1942:**

Foyle smiled to himself as he exited the jewellers shop, tucking the little box he'd just been to collect into his coat pocket and beginning his walk home. While Sam had been in Lyminster for Christmas he'd begun the first of a few discrete errands and inquiries and the little box represented the culmination of the last of them. He knew that he wanted nothing more than to have Sam in his life, and he also knew of her determination to have him. The pair spent had been spending the evenings leading up to Christmas eve and New Year's snuggled before the fire together at Steep Lane happily discussing their future together and enjoying the simple pleasures of their love. It became harder and harder for Foyle to restrain himself from dishonouring her and risking the combined ranks of the Stewart family descending on him for retribution.

'_No point waiting for the grass to grow, not at my time of life.'_

He'd been amazed at how well the Stewart family had accepted the idea of them marrying when he'd secretly taken a day trip to Lyminster to ask the Iain for his daughter's hand. The memory of his answer still quite vivid in his mind.

'…_Now I consider it, I should think that the Lord has been showing me the signs of the match since she was a girl. She grew up listening to my stories of how I had met Fleur while I was in the army and then lost her, only to find love again when I took up my calling here and met Mary. Most of Sam's letters home are full of news about her work with you and I could tell quite early on that she admired and cared for you. I never told Sam, but the main reason I came to take her was because I was worried that you would not return her feelings. That the heartbreak might be too much for her to bare and as a result she might fall prey to those who would take advantage of her. Samantha, like her mother has always been quite self-determined and independent and I knew that sooner or later she would tell you her feelings. When you came to reason with me to allow her to stay I could soon tell that even if you didn't return her feelings you would never allow her to be hurt. The fact she was helping to solve crimes involving the destruction of such beautiful artwork really was just an added benefit. So, when I consider my own past and the circumstances of your shared history I can only say to go with god and may his blessing shine on the pair of you. As a gentleman I'm sure I can trust you to look after her and to never mistreat her.'_

Hugh Reid had invited him to his annual New Year's party and told him to bring Sam as he had expressed his wholehearted approval of them while the pair had met for a drink on Christmas Eve after he'd seen Sam onto the train back to her parents.

'.._The woman's perfect for you Christopher, lord knows how she did it but I don't think I ever saw you looking quite so chipper since you lost Rosalind after she turned up. The gossiping matrons might disapprove of her age but to be frank you deserve your happiness man. You've given you're all to this job and Andrew for years. About time you put some thought to your own life. Why not bring her when you come for New Year's, Elaine will be pleased you've found someone, she's been quite despairing of you for years.'_

'_Couldn't agree more Hugh. But I will need to ask you a small favour….'_

Sam had been delighted when he'd asked her to join him, and now as he adjusted his suit in preparation for the evening he could only pray that it would represent the beginnings of a brighter future for both Sam and himself.

It was a chilly night and Foyle certainly didn't want Sam catching cold and so reached into the cupboard drew out the soft fur coat which had once been Rosalind's.

'_Looks about Sam's size.'_

He walked downstairs, drew his own coat on and met the taxi he'd ordered and bade the driver to head for Sam's billet. She met him at the door before ushering him inside, Foyle admiring the exquisite vision of loose curls and a beautiful blue dress he remembered her wearing once before.

'You look absolutely exquisite my dearest, isn't that the same dress you wore when you met Benito's son Tony?'

Sam beamed and kissed him, looking him up and down with an approving eye.

'Yes, and thank you for remembering, you look very handsome Christopher. Blue is definitely a good choice for you, brings out your eyes.'

Foyle smiled, 'best not keep the taxi waiting.'

Sam made to protest, 'my coat, it's rather chilly tonight.'

Foyle draped the soft fur over Sam's shoulders and helped her into it as she breathed, 'Christopher! You shouldn't have, this must have cost you an absolute fortune. Where on earth did you even find it? I haven't even seen a coat like this since before the war.'

Foyle took her hand and led her to the car and once they were settled and the car began moving he shrugged.

'After I lost Rosalind, I ended up giving most of her things to the jumble sale but I kept a few of the things she'd loved the most as well as all of her jewellery. Thought I'd keep them for whenever Andrew decided to grace me with a daughter in law. I put the jewellery in trust with my solicitor and gave him clear instructions for its dispersal, but the rest of her things are still stored at home. Considering his service record to date, I doubt he'll be bringing me home a bride to be anytime soon. If you find anything that you like, then you're more than welcome to take it.'

Sam giggled and leaned into him as she breathed, 'oh Christopher, thank you.'

'Never think that I see you as a mere replacement Sam, you are your own woman and I love you for what you are in yourself. Not for the memory of what I have lost.'

'She'll always be a part of you Christopher, she and any other lovers you had shaped you into the wonderful man you are now.'

The taxi driver soon dropped them off outside Hugh's house and after he settled the fare Foyle offered Sam his arm and led the way inside where the party was already in full swing.

Elaine and Hugh met them at the door and greeted them eagerly. Elaine was a motherly looking woman with bright red hair and sharp eyes, eyes that bore a knowing look as they swept over Sam.

'Christopher glad you made it, and good evening to you Samantha.' Hugh reached over to shake his hand before reaching over to kiss Sam's cheek.

'Let me take those coats,' offered Elaine as she stepped over and offered her cheek to Christopher who bent to kiss it.

Foyle found Hugh dragging him into a conversation with a few senior police officers while he noticed that Elaine had taken Samantha's arm and spirited her away. Sam soon found herself at the buffet table with a glass of punch in her hand while the kindly woman asked.

'Where did you ever find such a lovely coat Miss Stewart? I must admit you make me feel rather envious.'

Sam blushed, 'it was a gift from Christopher.'

Elaine had a conspiratorial look, 'I know, I distinctly remember Rosalind wearing it. He bought that for her as an anniversary gift not long after he'd been made a Detective Inspector and they moved to Steep Lane. The fact he would give you something that would otherwise be such a poignant reminder of her shows just how far you've brought him and how much he loves you.'

Sam's eyes widened, 'I had no idea.'

Elaine continued, 'Rosalind was an excellent woman, self-determined, understanding, dedicated to what she believed in, compassionate and a devoted wife and mother. I'm not sure Christopher ever really got over his grief despite the calm front he put up at work. Considering what he'd suffered over the years and I'm not just talking about Rosalind I really can't blame him for his choices. Life delivered some very harsh blows to Christopher when it came to the lists of love. He has a very loving and amiable nature and I and Mrs Howard, we both paraded a procession of widows past him over the years as we both thought that a man such as he deserved all the happiness in the world. While he was always polite, he never showed real interest, we were quite despairing as Andrew really needed a more permanent mother figure in his life and Christopher needed the companionship and support that a wife could give him.'

Sam felt her eyes mist and dabbed at them with her handkerchief, 'all these years and I had no idea.'

'There are few alive that do dear, I won't betray confidences, but I'm sure Christopher will tell you more in time. He's always been a noble and honest man, and I very much doubt he'll marry you without telling you what he thinks he should. You've given him back the light that Rosalind's death shrouded in his soul Samantha and that's all that matters. So give each other all the happiness in the world and don't let anything or anyone stand in your way.'

Sam nodded and Elaine soon led her back towards Christopher and said to him.

'She's an absolute angel Christopher, you'll do splendidly together and so I shall be very displeased if I don't see an engagement announcement in the Chronicle soon.'

Sam was pleased to see Christopher take what on the surface was quite an impertinent remark with his usual calm equanimity and noticed the twinkle in his eye as he smiled at her.

'Wwell, proposals do take some planning Elaine, I'd need to get the good Reverends permission first and find a ring. I've already given Roz's to Andrew for when he finds me a suitable daughter in law and actually tells me about it.'

Elaine laughed before heading off to mingle with a few of the other guests while Foyle commented admiringly.

'Elaine is quite taken with you, it isn't often I see her so open in her admiration of those she's just met. She's quite a formidable woman and has no tolerance for nonsense. Marrying her was probably the best thing Hugh ever did.'

Sam drew close into Christopher's side, 'she was very kind to me, told me about how much she's always admired you.'

'Elaine and Helen, that's Charles's wife have always been close friends, grew up in the same village actually. They've certainly done their best to look out for Andrew, bring some balance to his world. Nnnever liked their attempts at matchmaking though, as well intended as they were.'

Sam's eyes were teasing him, 'yes, Elaine told me that too.'

The party continued with Foyle and Sam enjoying the food, drink and conversation until the clock began to tick quite closer to midnight. Husbands and wives drifted together as the count began and Foyle discretely steered Sam away from the main throng of guests and discretely palmed the ring in his pocket.

'Ten, nine, eight….'

The countdown began around them and as the chorus of, 'happy new year!' erupted from the assembled guests Foyle swept sam into his arms and kissed her lovingly before he took her left hand and whispered into her ear.

'Samantha Eve Stewart, will you do me the greatest honour of becoming my wife?'

Sam's eyes widened and tears welled as she breathed, 'of course I will Christopher, I'd marry you like a shot.'

With a twist of his hand he gently pushed the ring onto her finger and Sam gasped as she examined it. It was quite a beautiful piece, made of yellow gold with a central diamond surrounded by small sapphires.

'But Christopher, I thought you just said… Unless,' Sam shot a slightly suspicious look at her fiancée.

'So this is what you've been doing with all those errands, you crafty fox.'

His raised eyebrow was enough confirmation as she threw herself into his arms, sobbing joyfully as Foyle held her close.

'Wwell, no point waiting any longer if we've both wanted this as long as we have. Your father certainly agreed and was quite keen when I spoke to him.'

Sam couldn't help but ask, 'when did you speak to dad?'

'Boxing day, you were out with your mother visiting parishioners while I dropped in to the rectory office. Hugh ran me there and back as a favour. I've been speaking to a few others as well, and reading a lot of rather antiquated police rules and more recent wartime regulations. The A/C thought I was off my rocker to even be considering it, but after I reminded him of his rather inglorious actions of recent times and the shortage of personnel. Hhe somewhat begrudgingly gave us special dispensation for you to keep your post after our wedding provided we "can maintain professional objectivity while on duty".'

Sam giggled as she imagined the conversation, 'oh Christopher my darling, you always did know how to surprise people.'

Elaine had come over to them and gently chided, 'do stop skulking dears and come join us for a drink, oh wait a minute Samantha, is that…?'

Suddenly she beamed, 'oh, congratulations. I didn't think you'd take my suggestion quite so literally Christopher, but this is wonderful news.'

Elaine blinked away tears as she dragged the happy couple forwards….

**May 1945:**

Andrew was amazed, 'you actually proposed in the middle of Aunt Elaine's living room dad? During her and Uncle Hugh's new year's party, that's incredible.'

'Nnno real reason to wait when we both knew what we wanted and since I already had Iain's blessing… Elaine and Hugh were both delighted, said it was the highlight of the night.'

'I can imagine, but dad, did you really keep things of mums to give to a daughter in law?'

'Seemed like the best use for them and I always thought that your mum would have approved. Next time do let me know in advance so I don't have to learn her character while I'm at work interviewing her as a witness to a murder case.'

Andrew winced at the memory of Violet, 'I will dad.'

'Well now the wars over you can stop rushing these things Andrew,' Sam commented.

Andrew couldn't help but agree, '_I might have been given a second chance today, don't want to waste it.'_

'Is that the end of the story?' asked Andrew.

'Nnno, but it is getting late Andrew and you look tired. The girls are both good sleepers, luckily, so they shouldn't bother you too much. Ask Sam tomorrow, I'm sure she'd love to tell you more of our story.'

Sam quickly agreed. 'Your room's ready, we tidied it up the other day when the demobs started coming back into Hastings.'

Andrew got up and walked towards the staircase, 'thanks Sam, goodnight.'

'Goodnight Andrew,' they both chorused

After the exhaustion of the last few weeks and the relief of finally unburdening his soul, Andrew fell asleep almost immediately. Glad to finally be back home, ready like Pandora before him to grasp the ray of hope he had found.


	5. Chapter 5

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/OC. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter and All Clear.

_Authors Note: Don't know exactly what the real RAF slang for desk bound officers was but I could help but find GiuliettaC's term of "penguins" perfect. _

Chapter 5: Sunday 6th May 1945: Murder in the Museum

Andrew woke up the next morning feeling rather more refreshed than he remembered being for months. The comforts and feelings of peace of coming home and finally unburdening himself having leant itself to a much better night's sleep. After getting dressed and having a quick wash and shave he slowly ambled downstairs for breakfast to find his father halfway through getting ready for work while Sam was busy feeding the twins.

'Morning everyone,' he greeted before he looked towards his father, 'you can't seriously be going in to work on a Sunday dad?'

'Dr Zeigler's been murdered,' he explained.

'Zeigler, that sounds German.'

'Austrian, came down last year but he was as English as you and me, and he was at the same victory day committee that I was yesterday. What are you up to today?'

Andrew smiled, 'I'm meeting Anne for lunch.'

Foyle nodded and passed over a few pound notes, 'she made a good impression when I met her Andrew, even if it wasn't in the best circumstances. So take her somewhere nice, you've both earned it.'

'Dad, you don't have to...'

'Nnno, you go and enjoy yourself and I'll see you tonight. Try and behave like a gentleman Andrew.'

Andrew saw his father bend down to kiss Sam, Caroline and Rose goodbye before he headed out and Sam asked him.

'Did you sleep alright Andrew?'

Andrew sat down, 'mmm, good to be home. Need a hand Sam?'

Sam waved him off, 'no, you stay there Andrew and I'll find you some food.'

Andrew grinned before eating his way through breakfast, Sam's cooking far superior to anything he remembered from the air force.

'This is really good Sam, far better than what they gave us in the mess.'

'Thanks Andrew, I never used to be much of a cook but your dad showed me all his skills.'

Andrew laughed, 'I can imagine, mum had the both of us thoroughly house trained before she died.'

As Andrew finished his meal, a tugging at his trouser leg drew his attention to the blonde cherub who had snuck up on him and he reached down to pull her on to his knee.

'Hello little one, I'm your big brother Andrew, what are you up to then eh? Been good for your mummy?'

He bounced the giggling child on his knee as Sam watched on approvingly.

'You're a natural Andrew, Caro's always been the more outgoing of the two, not that Rosie has ever been shy of meeting new people. Why don't you watch them for a minute while I clear this lot up?'

Andrew carried his sister to the settee before settling down and taking Rose when Sam brought her to him.

Playing with his little sisters seemed to unlock something in him that seemed to make the memories of the war a lot less vivid and he bent down and said to them both.

'You know what, you two are both really lucky. The whole world is going to change and even though most of it is an absolute mess right now, by the time you're a bit older we'll have it at least slightly cleaned up. It won't be the same as what it was mind you, but it should at least be more liveable. A real land of opportunity for the two of you once we put some of the gadgets we invented in this stupid war to a better use and get rid of a few stupid laws that don't make any sense. With parents like yours you'll be able to do so much more, probably still won't be everything the boys around you can, but even so.'

Sam it turned out had been listening and said, 'you really mean that?'

Andrew looked up and smiled, 'I do, and it's pretty obvious when you think about it. Nothing's going to be the same again after everything that's happened. By the time these two get a bit older England is going to be completely different, and who knows what it'll mean for them. Even if the country takes years to sort out, with you two for parents I'm feeling fairly confident about their future as dad's always been a liberal and he looks every inch the doting father. I remember him lamenting the police rules about women once, he told me that if Milner hadn't taken the job as detective sergeant he would have done his best to try and convince the commissioner to make an exception and then pinched you off the MTC.'

Sam was glowing as she sat down, 'your father's compassion and open mind were only a few of his many qualities that made me fall in love with him and he's been absolutely besotted with the girls. But what about your future Andrew?'

'I don't really know yet,' Andrew shrugged, 'I mean, I've got a few ideas but I've only just got home. Once it all isn't quite so fresh I'll probably be able to answer that properly.'

Sam squeezed him affectionately, 'take your time Andrew, now that you have the luxury of it.'

Andrew grinned and then looked at the clock on the wall, 'I'd better get ready, don't want to be late.'

After shrugging on the rest of his uniform lamenting that most of his civilian clothes were too big, Sam came over as he returned downstairs and instructed.

'Enjoy yourself Andrew, but I'd better not have an angry Mrs Roberts banging on the door for you mistreating her niece.'

Sam had a wary look on her face as she gazed at him and Andrew couldn't help but grimace.

'I know I didn't exactly cover myself in glory during the war Sam, but I'd like to think that now the peace is almost here I can change. Live fast, die young, it was essentially how we had to exist day to day as pilots because for all you knew. Each time you took off you might never land again, never having experienced so many things that others take for granted.'

'I'm sorry Andrew, I didn't mean…'

'It's alright Sam, with my record I can understand why you'd be concerned. Anne's different though, unlike all the other girls I met in the war, she can understand what it was like for us having been in the thick of it herself in her own way.'

Sam soon waved him off Andrew made his way through the streets until he reached the florists shop. Anne met him just inside, a spellbinding vision in smart civilian clothes looking up from where she'd been helping her Aunt behind the counter and smiling warmly at him.

'Oh, Andrew, there you are. I'll be right with you as soon as I finish this order.'

'No, no, that's fine, take as long as you need. I'm not exactly keeping RAF hours anymore.'

She made even the most ordinary tasks seem fascinating Andrew decided as he watched her arranging flowers with same serious expression he could imagine her wearing as she gazed at the radar display. But her highly nimble fingers and practised skills in the florist's art made the work pass quite quickly and soon she was coming out from the side of the counter as Mrs Roberts told him.

'Do try and bring her back by a decent hour Andrew, the pair of you both need your rest after the hours the air force made the both of you keep in the war. Now you've both got the time for a proper courtship there's no need to rush these things.'

Andrew grinned, 'don't worry Mrs Roberts, I think I've done enough rushing around for a lifetime if you want the truth.'

'Have fun then.'

Andrew offered Anne his arm once the pair left the shop and the two of them began to walk towards the seafront.

'How did it go Andrew? With your family I mean.'

'Well, pretty much how you said. Sam was fairly angry with me at first, but dad was pretty much his usual self the whole time. Once things were calm and I'd explained myself, they told me the beginnings of a rather incredible story. I feel a lot better now we've started to talk through everything.'

Anne had noticed the fading red mark on his face and gently asked, 'Did Sam do that to you?'

Andrew shrugged it off, 'I had worse injuries in the war Anne, nothing much hurt this time except my pride and Lord knows I had too much of that. The flowers helped calm her down though, those were very thoughtful of you.'

'You're welcome, try not to upset her again though, you're more handsome in one piece.'

Andrew laughed, 'Oh, not to worry Annie, I'd like to think I've learned that lesson. Besides, with no angry wing co, no Jerries, and Sam extremely happily married. There's nothing stopping me from giving you the world. Though with chocolate still rationed and your aunt running a flower shop I don't know how I'm supposed to….'

Anne giggled and clutched his arm a bit tighter, 'just be yourself Andrew.'

The seaside beckoned, a near continuous party atmosphere with crowds of revellers waiting on tenterhooks for the announcement of the German surrender. Andrew found himself being mobbed by the crowds, all eager to thank him as his uniform made him very conspicuous as Anne and he strolled along the waterfront while deciding where to go for lunch.

Eventually an eager waiter drew them into the Royal Victoria and while there were still no menu's the food was quite good, though not plentiful. Anne was clearly enjoying herself and Andrew couldn't help but think.

'_Well, five years of fighting Jerry done and dusted. All of Europe shattered and much of England in ruins. Rex and Charlie, among far too many airmen down in flames never to return to their loved ones. To nearly get the chop myself far too many times, was it worth it all? To see the faces of the innocent able to live their lives in freedom, to put an end to Nazi tyranny and to watch Caro and Rosie grow up in a world without war. I'd say so for myself, but it doesn't seem much comfort to all those families that bastard ruined with his insanity. At least now we can try and fix the mess he made.'_

'Penny for your thoughts.'

Andrew looked over at Anne and said, 'five years of total madness, destruction on a scale never seen before, so many lives destroyed. Is it wrong for me to feel so happy, while so many others have suffered beyond their worst nightmares? So much death on both sides, and all at a madman's whim.'

'No Andrew, it isn't wrong to be happy for yourself. You didn't cause all of this, and shouldn't feel responsible for it as you were fighting to stop it, to save lives. Thanks to you and others who served, the war will soon be over and society can work to finally put things right.'

'I'm sorry, didn't mean to spoil our lunch. Not exactly the most romantic topic of conversation.'

Andrew felt his hand squeezed as Anne reassured him, 'you'll be alright Andrew, it will take time but things will get better. No one could possibly have gone through the things you've seen and been unaffected by it. The fact you can talk about it will make it easier, I know when I lost my parents I was a mess, but my aunt and uncle helped me through it.'

'Thanks Anne, real shame you weren't stationed somewhere closer. Would have stopped me losing my head.'

'I agree, but it couldn't have been helped, they were really quite scared of you or more importantly your father. But after I'd spent about a year on the Isle of Wight they realized they had other uses for me and I was training the new operators towards the end.'

'Hence the new stripes on your tunic. At least some of the penguins had some sanity to recognise talent.'

'Penguins?' Asked a bewildered Anne.

'Desk officers, paper pushers. They look all dapper in their uniforms but I doubt that any of them has ever as much as climbed into a cockpit.'

'Not everyone had the abilities to meet Jerry head on Andrew,' said Anne reasonably, 'a lot of us had to work in the background to keep you boys flying.'

Andrew knew she was right, 'I know, but some of the penguins could be total BF's. Still, at least we don't have to worry about them now.'

The waiter came over with the bill and Andrew quickly passed over the money before he drew Anne's chair and offered her his hand. Leading her out of the hotel they began to walk along the waterfront when Andrew heard his name being called by a familiar matronly figure who drew him into her crushing embrace.

'Andrew, you're safe! Oh thank goodness.'

Elaine Reid held him at arm's length as she examined him, 'you're looking peaky dear, nothing that food and rest won't cure. When did you get back?'

'Yesterday, I have seen dad and Sam and we are working through everything.'

'Well thank heavens for that, they've been worried sick about you Andrew same as all of us.'

Andrew sighed, 'I didn't mean to worry everyone, but the news came so fast that I couldn't help but suspect the worst of dad. Course I soon realized I'd been a complete prig and once I got home yesterday the evidence of just how well dad and Sam suit each other was plain as day.'

'Well it's wonderful to hear that you've learned your lesson, because I could tell quite quickly that your father was quite besotted with young Samantha. Oh, are you going to introduce me to your lady friend Andrew?'

'Of course, Anne, this is Elaine Reid, my godmother, Elaine this is Anne Roberts, lately of the WAAF. We met while we were both stationed outside of Hastings in 1940 before we were both transferred elsewhere.'

The two women greeted each other politely before Elaine bade them farewell, 'I won't intrude on your afternoon Andrew, but you must come to dinner soon. Hugh, Susan, Lydia and Cecelia will be delighted to hear that you've returned home safe and sound.'

She waved them off before Andrew and Anne walked on and once they had gone a few paces Anne remarked.

'Elaine seems like a nice woman, you're lucky to have such a doting godmother.'

Andrew grinned, 'she and Aunt Helen, that's my Uncle Charles's wife have both been real bricks to me and dad since we lost mum in 32.' Andrew laughed,

'They were both were doing their best at matchmaking for dad for years, and it always irked him as he never really seemed interested even though I was always telling him he should get out more. Now dad's happily married I bet Elaine and Aunt Helen will both be chasing after me until I'm safely married off, and in Elaine's eyes preferably to Susan. That's probably one reason Elaine wants me over for dinner. The Reid girls are too much like little sisters for me to ever consider walking out with Susan though.'

Anne smiled, 'she means well Andrew, you've been through so much and she just wants you to be happy. Surely you can see that?'

'I can, Elaine's motives have always been good but she's always been a bit overzealous in her approach.'

Afternoon soon began to give way to early evening and Andrew figured he'd best take Anne home and so began to lead her back towards her Aunt's shop.

Stopping just outside Anne pulled him into her arms and into a kiss, much to Andrew's surprise. But shock the soon passed as he relaxed and began to kiss back, the rightness of holding Anne a sharp contrast to his experiences with the girls he'd met in the war where the lingering spectre of the 109's forced him to rush in blindly when he ought to have been more careful. But now he felt the world bringing itself back into balance around the wonderful woman in his arms who somehow without his knowing had stolen a piece of him just as she was forced away from him.

She drew away, a dreamy smile on her face as she began, 'I've had a lovely day Andrew, but now I've got you back I'm not letting you go again, even to scheming matrons.'

Andrew grinned, 'you're an absolute angel Annie, just like you always have been. Couldn't have done my job without you watching my back and now here you are to bring me safely down to the ground. But you don't need to worry about Susan pinching me from you, we both always agreed things would be too awkward between us. Besides, it's been five years since I last saw her and for all I know she could already have a boyfriend. Still, watching out for her and the others is good practice for when Rosie and Caro get old enough I suppose.'

Anne laughed, the soft musical tone immediately lodging in his mind as one of the most beautiful sounds he'd ever heard as she embraced him.

'I know, but it's good to hear you say it anyway,' her teasing glance telling him all he needed to know.

Andrew grinned again, 'fancy a flick tomorrow? There's bound to be something good at the Ruby now all the ships are getting through unmolested. We could go get some dinner afterwards.'

'I'd love to, as long as we're not too busy at the shop. Call round in the afternoon and we'll see.'

After another kiss they parted, Andrew walking off to Steep Lane with a new spring in his step, soon meeting his father who had just beaten him home.

'You're looking rather chipper Andrew, I take it your lunch with Anne went well then?'

'Couldn't possibly have gone better dad even if Elaine tried her usual matchmaking to nudge Susan and me up the aisle, did you find whodunit yet?'

'Nnno, got a few leads I'm following and it's looking fairly promising. Need to take a trip up to Town tomorrow to see an old associate of mine who can probably get me the information I need to help narrow things down.'

'That's good, hopefully you can solve it and catch your man before the announcement, and you can take Sam and the girls and join in the celebrations.'

Dinner was a cheerful affair, full of lively conversation and light natured teasing of Andrew and afterwards Andrew began to feel curious as to what else had happened to his father and Sam during the years he had been gone.

'So, what else happened while I was gone? I take it this wasn't a case of "and they lived happily ever after" while we were in the middle of a war.'

'No I'm afraid not,' said Sam, 'we faced quite a few challenges but we got through them. The first big one coming when a new A/C and your father's goddaughter both chose to arrive in Hastings in March 43.'

Andrew was all ears, 'Lydia Wallace? But she never came here since before Mum died.'


	6. Chapter 6

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/Anne Roberts. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter, Casualties of War and All Clear.

_Authors Note: Once again, thanks to all who have been reading and reviewing my work. We now turn our attention to the dramatic events of Casualties of War and soon, Plan of Attack. Both of course will be subtly adjusted to fit my changes to the story line. I do apologize for the lack of a wedding scene, but this fic is primarily centred on Andrew and to write everything that has happened with Sam and Foyle would turn this fic into a massive epic far beyond my original intentions. I do intend a series of companion one shots to cover the action that's not "on camera" as it were once the main fic is done, so you'll get to see the wedding then._

Chapter 6: March 1943: Bombs, Diplomats and Illegal Rambling

Foyle woke up that morning with the uneasy feeling of approaching trouble clouding him. Despite Sam's stellar efforts to take his mind off the approaching visit the previous night years of service to the police as well as his war experiences had honed his instincts to a razors edge. Foyle generally knew better than to ignore his instincts and had no intention no doing so in this instance.

'_New A/C that's coming down, most likely another self-absorbed twerp wanting to throw his weight around.'_

Glancing across at the illuminated clock beside the bed, Foyle silently cursed realising that if he wanted to get in to the station on time he'd have to move. Turning to his left he gazed down at Sam's sleeping form which was curled into his body, her dreams obviously pleasant judging by the sated smile on her face.

After their engagement on New Year's Eve, there had been a friendly argument among the ranks of the ordained Stewarts over where to hold the wedding before Sam and Foyle had chosen her Uncle Aubrey's parish before grabbing a weekend in a nearby cottage with the demands of war forcing them to avoid a longer honeymoon.

Gently nudging and kissing his young bride awake Foyle listened to her sleepy

'Oh no, is it time already darling? Can't we go in later?'

'As much as I'd love to spend all eternity with you my dearest, the new A/C is supposed to be arriving today, have to meet him eventually.'

Sam mumbled something under her breath and Foyle could only make out the words "twerp" and "better things to do" as she wrapped her arms tighter around him and burrowed herself tighter against his warmth. Foyle had learned that his wife was an adorable sleepyhead but with marriage came the delightful knowledge of how best to wake her. So without too much fuss he was able to coax her to get up before the two of them set about getting ready for the day and having breakfast. But when they had finished their meal and were heading out to the car, Foyle was very surprised to see his goddaughter approaching with a little boy of around six who was quite obviously her son.

'_Lydia Wallace? Here, Now? After so long a time.'_

'Lydia?'

'Uncle Christopher, this is my son James.'

'Ahh,' Foyle said as he looked down at the boy before turning back to his goddaughter he spoke,

'Lydia, this my wife Samantha.'

'Oh, congratulations, have you been married long?'

'Only since last month,' said Sam proudly. 'I was assigned to drive Christopher in May 1940 and just about everything happening around the two of us seemed to draw us together. Christopher finally proposed at New Year's.'

'But that's wonderful news,' said an astonished Lydia

Lydia began to explain what had happened to her son at his school, Sam's face full of horror as Lydia described the bombing of the school and the effect it had had on James before she began to outline why she had come. As she talked Foyle could tell there was something wrong with her story but figure she should give her the benefit of the doubt for the time being. Looking at his watch Foyle cursed inwardly as he realised he could well be late.

'Lydia, Sam and I really need to head in to the station, I've got a meeting with the new A/C this morning and if he's anything like the last one he'll hate it if I'm even fashionably late.'

'Alright, we'll see you both tonight,' Lydia smiled, Foyle noticing that it didn't seem to reach her eyes.

Passing over a few pound notes, he led Sam out to the car, the pair soon on their way to the station as Sam began.

'Oh Christopher, that poor little boy, it's awful. I didn't think even Jerry could be so cruel as to bomb a school.'

'I know, but the least we can do is try and help them Sam. Lydia's father was my Commanding Officer for a time during the first war. Quite a good man, but he was killed in the blitz.'

'Oh,'

'Keep it under your hat Sam, I'd prefer it if this didn't distract us all too much from the A/C's visit.'

'Mum's the word,' said Sam cheerfully.

Pulling into the station, Brookie confirmed his worst fears as soon as Sam and he reached the front desk.

'Morning Mr Foyle, Mrs Foyle, the new A/C's here, wasn't sure what to do with him so I've put him in your office sir.'

Foyle sighed before with a resigned look into Sam's encouraging eyes he walked into his office to find the new A/C pacing impatiently. The man soon demanding action on local gambling rackets that had been springing up. Foyle managed, if only just to placate him with the file on the gang of saboteurs that he'd been investigating before the man demanded a lift to the regency hotel. Foyle following him out and watching, as the man ruthlessly interrogated Sam on her transfer to the police.

Stepping into Milner's office, Paul reported his progress with the gambling rackets in managing to join a game being held in a warehouse.

When Sam returned from driving the A/C, he noticed the frown on her face and guessed that Parkins hadn't been an obliging passenger and sure enough, when they were alone after dinner that night. Sam was quick to comment.

'I don't know Christopher, I know a lot of senior officers aren't fond of women in the forces or the police. But him…' she shuddered.

Foyle gathered her in his arms, 'we'll get through it together Sam, it's me he's really after and all because I refuse to take part in the high level cronyism that seems of have infected the upper echelons of the force over the past few years. Did he, ask questions about us?'

'No he didn't, he was more interested in asking about you and the way you do your job than me, didn't really think I was worth his notice. I did my best, but he still looked like a man who'd lost a fiver and found a farthing.'

Foyle kissed her before he said, 'even if you'd been an angel singing my worth to him I think he still wouldn't have been satisfied. Let's just hope Milner can deal with these gambling rackets quickly, get him off all our backs and back to London where he can't do much harm.'

However, luck was not with them as Milner came in the next day looking rather the worse for wear, Foyle watched as Sam patched him up before the sergeant announced his attention to look for the two boys.

Foyle couldn't help but think '_Interesting, where would youngsters find that sort of cash? We haven't had a wave of break-ins lately so somebody must be paying them._ _Something to do with the sabotage perhaps?'_

When Sam and he arrived at home that night, Lydia was nowhere in sight despite finding James on his bed reading a comic. Foyle and Sam spread out to look and could find no sign of her, and Sam soon came back from the local shops finding no trace of her going there that day with the strange exception of a post office clerk who remembered selling her some stamps.

Foyle sat down and decided, 'if she isn't back by tomorrow morning I'll get Brooke to put out a bulletin.'

Sam agreed, 'I'll keep an eye on James, we can't leave him on his own Christopher.'

'Good, if anybody can get through to him and draw him out, I'm sure you can.'

By the next morning Lydia had not turned up and so Foyle ordered Brooke to start a search. Milner reported the case of a suspicious gunshot and again Foyle felt his unease grow, his six sense proving right when Milner called him out to view the body of Michael Richards that had been discovered. His long time neighbour Professor Townsend and his assistant were both rather poor liars as they gave accounts of the events of the previous evening, and a bouquet on the floor seemed an odd thing to see in a secret admiralty laboratory. The dead man's widow seemed an even worse liar, evidence clearly visible to doubt the grief she was obviously faking.

Lydia's disappearance was still a mystery and Brooke reported no further news the next morning despite his best efforts at finding Foyle's wayward goddaughter. A letter waiting in his office however chilled his stomach as he read:

_Dear Uncle Christopher_

_Everything has been so difficult for me for so long. But I've often wondered how I could carry on. Please forgive me for writing to you like this but I can't take James with me so I've decided to leave him with the one person I can trust. You and your wife have been so kind to me and will understand what it is that I have to do_.

Foyle frowned as he recognised the letter for what it really was, '_a suicide note, Lydia you stupid fool.'_

Leaving his office he gave Brooke new orders before leaving the building to have another word with Professor Townsend who urged him to drop the investigation. Foyle's coppers senses immediately sniffed out that his friend was likely more involved than he was saying.

Milner brought good news a few hours later when he brought in their key suspect from the illegal gambling rackets who quickly admitted conspiracy to commit bodily harm and Foyle felt very satisfied as he and Milner left the man in the holding cell.

'Thank heavens for that,' Foyle said to his sergeant, 'if we're lucky, hopefully Parkins will push off and go back to London now, leave us to get on with our jobs.'

Luck and fate had some strange surprises left that day though, first with the news that Lydia had been found near drowned on the beach, but the worst was when Brooke came over shortly after Foyle got back from the hospital, a pale look on his normally cheery face to tell him.

'Sir there's been an incident in the woods, a bomb. It's Mrs Foyle sir.'

Foyle nearly fainted, the words of his desk sergeant seemingly coming from a long way away for a long moment before Brooke continued.

'She's not hurt sir, she and the kid are both at your house. She's the one who called it in.'

'Get me over there sergeant, right now if you would.' Foyle ordered.

'Yes sir.'

Brooke drove the Wolseley through the streets until they reached Steep Lane and Foyle ran inside to find Sam sitting on the settee, her hair and uniform a mess. Upon seeing him, she got up and ran into his arms before the pair both broke down sobbing uncontrollably.

'Oh Sam, what am I going to do with you? I thought you were…'

'I'm alright Christopher, it'd take more than two youths to take me away from you.'

Foyle studied her form, aside from a few smudges of dirt on her face and some leaves in her hair he could see no blemishes and her cheerful smile was infectious. Both leaning in for a long kiss, full of reassurance, Foyle taking joy and comfort in Sam's survival. When both drew away smiling, Foyle asked.

'Two youths dear?'

'One had dark hair, looked a bit older, I think his name was Terry. I heard the other call out to him.'

'His name wasn't Frank by any chance?'

Sam was surprised, 'actually I think that might have been his name, how'd you know Christopher?'

'They were the same men who intervened when Milner was attacked at the dice game.'

Sam huffed, 'oh that's nice, rescue Milner and then blow me up. Wish they'd get their priorities sorted out.'

'How's James?'

'The bomb seemed to unlock something in him, kept calling out for a Mrs Jukes, I think you'll find he's completely changed.'

Indeed he had as he came downstairs calling for his mother, Foyle doing his best to explain where she was before Sam led him upstairs to get him cleaned up. Later that night, when James had reluctantly gone to bed Sam and Foyle were lying in theirs, Sam finally asking the questions that had been bothering her all day.

'Where would those boys have gotten the explosives? Why blow them up in the woods? I don't think they were deliberately trying to kill me, one of them shouted out to try and warn me, just before the explosion.'

Foyle frowned, thinking over his theories and the facts of the case before he answered, 'I think those two boys might be the ones responsible for the sabotage. Somebody must have been paying them to do it, but for some reason they didn't want to do a job and decided to get rid of the bomb.'

Sam frowned ruefully, 'right place, wrong time again?'

Foyle gazed fondly at his wife as he tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, 'once again you prove just how much of a nose for trouble you have.'

Sam giggled, 'you love me anyway and you jolly well know it.'

Foyle raised his eyebrow, 'you wouldn't be who you are without your instinct for trouble my love. But you're absolutely right, I do love you for it.''

Her breathing had evened out and Foyle found himself simply watching her for a long moment before he fell asleep himself.

With the reluctant racketeer giving more names, Foyle and Milner pulled in the boys with the bomb who soon led them to a rather smug Spanish diplomat who despite seeming every inch the gentleman was inwardly laughing at them throughout the interview.

Arresting Mrs Richards brought no satisfaction to Foyle as A/C Parkins pulled rank with the help of a senior naval officer, both demanding her release. Sam laid a hand on his arm as the pair watched the unknown Captain lead the researcher out of the station.

'I don't know Sam, sometimes I wonder why I do this job if people like them can come along and destroy the rule of law because of the war. Howard Paige was bad enough, but this is worse.'

Sam squeezed his arm, 'you'll be fine Christopher I know you will, and soon they'll see why they shouldn't interfere.'

Sam and Foyle fetched James and took him to the hospital where the nuns agreed to look after him for a few days, Lydia soon confessing her circumstances and her despair. Professor Townsend met him in the lobby and soon informed him of his work and again tried to justify the murder before Foyle let him know of the truth he had discovered. But next came the confrontation Foyle was dreading as he travelled to the Regency to meet Parkins, soon throwing his resignation into A/C's face. Sam met him just outside the room just as he came out and from the look on his face she could tell what had happened.

'You've resigned, haven't you Christopher?'

'I'm not working for a police force that refuses to bring justice to those who commit crime.'

Sam smiled and with a mischievous look as she noticed the pompous man come out of the room. Sam removed her driving gloves to reveal her wedding and engagement rings, threw her arms around Christopher's neck and kissed her husband long and deeply right in front of the dreaded A/C. The disgust clear on the old man's face as he watched.

'Jolly well done Christopher, if he's not going to do his job properly then they don't deserve you. I'll resign too, I'm not letting another fool like Collier send me back to Mrs Bradley.'

Foyle laughed, 'indeed so my dearest, let the old fool talk. While we laugh at him in his ignorance.'

**6****th**** May 1945**

Andrew was simply amazed, 'wow, I'd have paid to see the look on his face.'

Sam smiled serenely, 'the red of his face certainly didn't match his blue uniform.'

'So what happened next?'

'Wwell, I resigned, thought I'd take some time, decide what to do next. I've never been prone to extravagance so I could afford to take time off. But as you know, the law requires all women between 18 and 60 to choose an occupation to assist the war effort if they have the time available and of course you know how eager Sam has always been to help. She soon found a job not far out of Hastings at a place called Beverly Lodge. Classified of course, but certainly important work and I was very proud of her for it. I began working on another book, about the wartime history of the Hastings Police. However, what neither of us realized at the time of course was that two little angels were already on their way to us.'

Andrew smiled, 'so you conceived the twins around the same time you left the police.'

Sam was glowing, 'yes, I spent just enough time at Beverly Lodge to make a few friends before advancing pregnancy and the MO made me pack it in in. It was jolly lucky I was assigned there though considering that when your father was forced back to the police, his first new case involved an unfortunate young man who worked there who was killed by a Jerry spy.'

Foyle raised his brow, 'what can I say Andrew, Sam has a gift for drawing things out of witnesses, especially other young women. In that case it was the key to everything which helped us catch a very dangerous man who was responsible for the fatal shooting of one detective.'

'Bloody hell,' was Andrew's response, 'how did it happen?'


	7. Chapter 7

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/Anne Roberts. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter, Casualties of War, Plan of Attack and All Clear.

_Authors Note: It's a pity you can't respond directly to guest reviews, as it would make things a lot easier. But to respond to Laurie Hart's point, one can never expect perfection in fanfiction as there's always bound to be a few grammatical flaws no matter how much anybody tries to iron them out. Still the show must go on, or at least my version of it as danger rears its head._

Chapter 7: April 1944: The Dance of Life and Death

Foyle gently tapped the keys of the typewriter on the desk in his study, smiling as he continued what was promising to be another good book. Sam had volunteered to be his typist early on in the course of his work on the manuscript but Christopher had soon found his wife too much of a temptation. He could tell she found him equally distracting as the pair sat across from each other during the times they'd worked on the book together and in the end he'd found it easier to give Sam the typed sections to proof read and check for errors.

'_Still doesn't remove all the temptation, as it shouldn't.'_ Thought Foyle with a fond smile.

A gentle crying interrupted him and he hurried out to the living room to find that his eldest daughter was waking up. Gently, Foyle lifted her up and gently rocked her, hoping that her soft cry wouldn't wake her sister who still slept alongside her. Caroline and Rose had both been such a blessing, especially in the shadow of Andrew's estrangement. As he gently rocked the baby, he remembered telling Sam the story of how he had met his eldest daughter's namesake. One evening when she had noticed the scar on his shoulder not long before the wedding.

'_Christopher, that scar on your shoulder how did you get that?'_

'_During the war, one night I was sent with a few other men on a reconnaissance sortie into no man's land prior to an offensive. Somebody must have made too much noise because the Bosche sent up a flare, and before I could drop to the ground a sniper bullet hit me. I was invalided back to a hospital in Brighton and while I was there I began a chapter of my life that was even more painful than the injury.'_

_Sam could see the pain in his eyes and guessed, 'a woman Christopher?'_

_Foyle murmured, 'her name was Lady Caroline Deveraux, she was a volunteer nurse and her husband was an MP at the time. He was away for weeks at a time and I soon learned how horribly he treated her. She was kind, beautiful, frightened, and she was terribly dissatisfied with the life she was leading. We began an affair, she was even planning to leave him. However, just before I was due to be sent back she realized she was expecting and she decided to return to him for the child's sake. Making me promise not to contact her again.'_

_Sam's eyes were full of surprise, 'So Andrew has a sibling?'_

'_Possibly an elder brother, but I have no way of knowing for certain as Sir Charles did return to their home several times while I was still convalescing. But what was worse, was that a few years later, after I'd married Rosalind I read in the papers that Caroline had died, supposedly in an accident. I never believed it, I still don't because I know what sort of man he is and I wouldn't put it past Sir Charles to have murdered her. But without proof I never could investigate and if that bastard ever found out about me then he would have destroyed me.'_

_Sam pulled him close and sobbed, 'oh Christopher, that's horrible. Did Rosalind know?'_

'_Yes, I told her before the wedding and I've been waiting for a chance to tell you, so I'm glad you asked.' _

In time, Christopher sat in the chair next to his exhausted wife's bed as together they held the two little miracles they had created together.

'_What shall we call them my dearest?'_

_Sam beamed down at the tiny baby girl in her arms, a few tears dropping onto her head before she looked at her husband and her other daughter._

'_My father put me off a lot of the names like Prudence, Chastity, and Faith and so on. But there's one name I've been considering. Would you mind terribly if we name the elder Caroline?'_

_Foyle's eyes widened, 'are you sure Sam?'_

_Sam smiled, 'She made you into what you are today and she did so much for you when you were alone and frightened. Also, her story, so tragic. I think she'd rest so much easier and happier if we quietly honoured her in such a way.'_

'_Oh Sam, thank you. I love you so much.'_

_Foyle bent down to kiss her before he asked, 'and our youngest daughter? I don't know about you but I've always liked flower names for girls.'_

_Sam beamed, 'Oh Christopher, me too. It's quite common in my mother's family actually. My grandmother on my mum's side, her name was Rose. She always was my favourite, spoiled me rotten whenever I went to stay with her when I was little.'_

_Foyle grinned, 'Rose is a lovely name dear, but do you think it might be too close to Rosalind?'_

_Sam shook her head, 'no, and even so Rosalind made you what you are today. Rose will simply be all the more loved for being named for two members of our family Christopher.'_

That evening, Foyle met Milner, his former DS lamenting the state of the Hasting's constabulary to Foyle over a friendly pint. Both men finally turning onto the one pleasant subject they had between them.

'How are Sam and the girl's sir?'

'Thriving,' smiled Foyle, 'Helen and Elaine have been a godsend as the two of them were quite demanding, I certainly didn't expect twins even when Sam warned me her family had a history for them, but they're getting easier to manage now. You and Edith should pay a visit sometime, I'm sure Sam would love to see you both.

'I'd love to sir, I'll check with Edith, see what she says. But I'd better get back now, she won't like it if I'm too late.'

Foyle arched his brow, 'the price we pay for giving up bachelorhood eh Milner? Still, the benefits far outweigh it so it was a price I definitely was prepared to pay.'

Foyle bade Milner goodnight and headed for home, distantly hearing the sound of a car engine being driven at speed.

'_Odd, who'd drive so fast at this time of night in the middle of Hastings?'_

The next morning's post brought Sam a surprise in the form of a telegram and once she'd read the contents with a sigh she called him over to her and asked.

'Christopher, the telegram, it's from Aubrey. I know it's not exactly much notice but he's just had word that his hotel has let him down and he needs accommodation for a few days while he attends the church conference. Do you think we could put him up? I mean, he did let us stay when we were investigating that Hill House lot and he did preside over our wedding.'

Foyle smiled, 'I don't mind, He's quite welcome. He is family after all and a family takes care of its own. More to the point, I rather like him when he isn't trying to poison us with that witches concoction of his.'

Sam kissed him and murmured, 'jolly good,' before she dashed into the hall and began a phone call to her uncle. Christopher soon venturing out to fetch the jolly cleric from the bus stop.

'Christopher? Good to see you again, how are Samantha and the girls?'

'They're perfectly well, you'll see them later.'

Over a cup of tea Aubrey outlined his position and that of some of the clergy on the present course of the war. Foyle could understand his position but doubted that the priests would make much headway on public opinion. Sam soon voicing what Foyle was thinking.

'Forgive and forget is all well and good uncle, but you'll be having a difficult time to convince the public and the government, especially after Coventry and London. Not to mention the newsreels from Europe.'

Aubrey could only nod solemnly as he conceded the point.

Foyle left the house the next morning with a large shopping list while Aubrey had gone off to the conference, but when he got home his brow furrowed as he heard the sound of a young women crying and he began to worry. But he could also hear Sam's voice trying to comfort whoever it was, which seemed odd.

Stepping inside he listened to the woman sobbing.

'…..This is all my fault Sam, if only I hadn't gone near that cad Everett this would never have happened.'

'I don't think there was much you could have done Jane, Adam is certainly persuasive and Henry hated his job, hated what it was responsible for. If anything drove him to it, I don't think it was you.'

'Oh Sam, Adam was so horrible about it, sounded almost glad he's dead. I honestly wouldn't put it past him to have killed Henry. He's never left me alone, not since I was stupid enough to….'

'It's alright Jane, Christopher will be home soon and you can tell him what you can. He still knows a lot of people in the police and a few in Whitehall, I'm sure he can do something to help you. If Adam really did kill Henry then we won't let him get away with it. Besides, I never could stand him either. I don't think he cared about the fact I'm married the whole time I was working at the Lodge.'

Foyle stepped inside and put the shopping down to find Sam with a young blonde woman wearing the uniform of the WAAF. She started like a frightened rabbit upon seeing Foyle before Sam reassured her.

'It's alright Jane, this is my husband Christopher. Christopher this is Jane Hudson, one of my old work friends from Beverly Lodge. I'm afraid some Land Girls found her young man hanging from a tree earlier today.'

Foyle looked at the girls swollen and puffy eyes and felt helpless, but did his best anyway.

'I'm very sorry to hear that Miss Hudson, but I'm afraid there isn't much I can do as I'm sure Sam told you the circumstances of my resignation from the police. But if you feel up to explaining what you can and are allowed to. Then I can talk to some of my former colleagues, see what they can do to help.'

Jane seemed to relax and over a cup of tea began to explain her relationship with the two men and her suspicion of Adam Everett.

Foyle resolved to pass her information onto Milner and after the young woman had left, he made a phone call to the station only for Brooke to tell him that Milner was out with DCS Meredith.

As he put the phone down Sam asked,

'Who did you pass the information to?'

'I tried Milner, but he wasn't there.'

'Oh, still I'm happier now that we can pass this on. Poor Jane, she loved Henry, and if it wasn't for the war and what it did to him they would have married by now.'

Foyle was as always in admiration of Sam's compassion, 'you never cease to amaze me dearest.'

Events took a more sinister turn that night as Foyle learned when he saw A/C Parkins walk towards him and Aubrey with a very grim look on his face. Being taken into a room and informed of the fate of his successor made Foyle equally as grim,

'_A sniper bullet? That doesn't sound like the act of a rake determined to seduce a pretty young WAAF. Only the military or the intelligence services would train anybody to the level of precision needed.'_

Sam was horrified when he told her what had happened after he got home that afternoon.

'Oh Christopher, do be careful. Murder disguised as suicide is one thing, but a sniper?'

Foyle held her close and did his best to reassure her.

'If whoever did this as desperate enough to resort to something so very drastic to silence Milner then they are very obviously scared. When you're dealing with criminals Sam, usually it's the ones who are overconfident or scared who make the most mistakes. If we're careful then hopefully Milner and I can wrap this up quickly.'

Foyle felt Sam's tears flow onto his shoulder, 'just promise me you'll come home in one piece Christopher.'

Foyle could only nod, 'I'll do my best, but as we've just seen my dear there are no guarantees. But I promise I'll do my best to make sure I come home.'

Aubrey came home and took one look at their faces and guessed, 'I take it something bad has happened?'

Walking back into the police station was surreal to Foyle as he remembered everything that had taken place from when he'd first joined before the Great War to when he'd resigned a year ago. Brooke wore his usual Cheshire grin as he joked about the sanity of the brass before Foyle reprimanded.

'If I hear you criticise any senior officer again I'll have you demoted and transferred, better still I'll have you discharged.'

As he walked towards his office he made out.

'Well, it's good to have him back.'

Meredith's and Milner's case notes seemed thorough and it didn't take Foyle long to familiarise himself with the facts of the cases that seemed even at a glance to be woven together. Interviewing Meredith's widow and their arrested suspect gave Foyle even more of the picture and proved beyond doubt that Meredith was just an unlucky victim of chance.

Parkins soon produced official clearance to visit Beverly Lodge and Foyle was soon shown into the office of the cheerful Wing Commander. He was all ease and friendliness as he showed Foyle around the building, asking after Sam as he introduced him to one of the staff members who seemed strangely out of place in Foyle's eyes.

When Foyle got home that night he took a moment to ask Aubrey.

'I don't suppose I could ask you a favour Aubrey, my late colleague DCS Meredith has a widow, all on her own now. Would it be too much trouble to ask you to…?'

'No, it's my duty as a clergyman Christopher, just write down the address and I'll call in on her tomorrow.'

It didn't do much good as Foyle learned when he led Aubrey to the bus stop later the next day

'I don't think I've ever met anyone quite so lost.'

He smiled at Christopher, 'take care Christopher, and look after Samantha and the girls as the two of you and your children are a beacon of hope in these troubled times. Living proof that life goes on amidst all this wickedness, and in fact, that might make for a good sermon. My parishioners would certainly appreciate it more than Francis Wood's messages. '

Foyle arched his brow, 'glad you agree, but don't worry, we'll be fine.'

It seemed that fate had decided that the case would be solved that day as Milner suddenly arrived with a file and one glance at it gave Foyle the next piece of the puzzle. Adam Everett was soon being ushered into the car by Brooke after the repentant Wing Commander had confessed to his crimes. But what came next proved the final piece was revealed when Richard Waterlo passed over the dossier of intelligence on father Kepler. Foyle's mind immediately seizing on the name of the priest's home village and recognizing that it had no church when the air force agent showed him the photographs. Much as Henry Scott had obviously done so just before his death.

Barely an hour later Foyle walked into the church leaving his men outside as he went to find Kepler. The impostor priest tried to deny his involvement but when confronted with the damning evidence and Foyle's demand to come with him, the spy drew a luger from his robe and pointed it at Foyle.

'Have you come here alone?'

'No, I came into the church alone out of respect, for the church.'

'You have men waiting outside?'

'Of course.'

'But even so, you are my enemy and I have nothing left to lose, if I am arrested I will be executed. I am a dead man.'

'I suggest you make your peace.'

Kepler noted the wedding ring on Foyle's finger.

'You are married Mr Foyle?'

'Yes, with two small children at home.'

'Then I will not deny them their father, turn around and start walking.'

Foyle began to walk out of the building but soon heard the luger fire a single shot and turning on his heel, he saw that Kepler had shot himself.

Shaking his head, Foyle left the church to where the uniformed officers were waiting.

**6****th**** May 1945**

Andrew looked horrified, 'you stared right down the barrel of a luger and the reason that the Jerry holding it didn't shoot was because you were married? Oh dear god, how could you have done that dad. Sam mustn't have been pleased when you got home that night.'

'I wasn't, it was reckless and not to mention heartless.' Sam scowled at her husband as she thought back to that day, 'I'd only just lectured him on being careful, and he goes and walks into a church with a cornered spy who was known to have a gun.'

Foyle sighed, 'as a man claiming to be a priest, I thought he would at least accept his defeat with some grace if he knew he had no way out. Most German officers I met in the Great War at least knew when they had lost and tended not to give much trouble.'

Andrew's eyes widened, 'it make me think how lucky it was that you married Sam dad. Sounds like if you hadn't married her you would have been shot.'

'Wwell, can't go anywhere without her.'

Sam couldn't help but tease, 'no, and you can't keep yourself out of trouble without me either Christopher.'

Andrew laughed and he could see the raised brow on his dad's face which meant he was secretly enjoying it even as he said.

'Probably your influence on me dear.'

Andrew bent down and whispered to the cherub in his arms.

'If either of those two ever tell you off for getting in trouble Rosie, you can safely call them both hypocrites.'

'Keep my daughters out of this Andrew, you can ruin your own children when you have them.' said Sam as she came to rescue her youngest from his clutches.'

Andrew grinned at the thought of a slightly older Anne bustling around after a brood of theirs with her serious eyes detecting mischief out of their offspring quicker than spotting Jerries on a radar screen. While he did his best to help sort out what would undoubtedly be thanks to him, natural born troublemakers. He couldn't help but admit to himself that the image was a pleasant one.


	8. Chapter 8

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/Anne Roberts. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter, Casualties of War, Plan of Attack and All Clear.

_Authors Note: I'm guessing that by May 45, since the German surrender was so close that the quantity of movies coming across the Atlantic to British movie theatres would have been increasing. I'm not sure how long it was between footage being shot and censored and it being shown in newsreels. So I'm guessing that it would be a few weeks and so by this time, the public would be seeing footage of the siege and capture of Berlin judging by the canon All Clear with the newspaper headlines announcing Hitler's death._

Chapter 8: 7th May 1945: Visions of the Past, Present and the Future

Andrew woke up the next morning feeling rather more optimistic than he thought he had a right to be. He was back in in his hometown, he had patched things up with his father and Sam, and had even found an absolute angel in Anne Roberts.

Getting dressed into his uniform, Andrew couldn't help but feel hopeful. His latest poem, which he had written just prior to leaving Malta no longer really describing how he felt.

He joined his father and Sam at the breakfast table, his father in the middle of explaining his planned trip to Town.

'If I'm lucky, I should be able to get back by about six o clock tonight. Miss Pierce ought to be able to get what I need without too much fuss. She still owes me a favour after the Hill House mess.'

'You have a care Christopher, remember what happened the last time we got mixed up with people like her.'

'Vividly my dear, but to be fair to Hilda it was Maccoby who sabotaged our car. If anything, the old tigress would be more likely to try and recruit me than kill us.'

Andrew sat down and asked, 'you're definitely off to Town today then dad?'

Foyle looked over at his son, 'yes, need some documents as they tie in to the case I've been investigating. Trouble is, I need to speak to an associate in Whitehall to get them, best if you don't ask too many questions as the woman in question is rrrather dangerous.'

Andrew thought back to Henderson, the ruthless special branch copper who'd held him in that cell all those years ago.

'_Dad, mixed up with spies? This just gets crazier by the day.'_

Foyle saw the intrigued look on Andrew's face, but hoped he could spare him Hilda's notice and soon kissed his wife and daughters goodbye before he left the house to head for London.

Andrew finished his breakfast before giving Sam a hand clearing up, Sam asking him as they finished up.

'Andrew, are you busy this morning?'

Andrew shook his head, 'no, but I am planning on visiting Anne this afternoon though. You need something Sam?'

'I want to go and call in on Edith Milner, she's due to give birth any day now. But we're running short of a few things. Don't mind doing the shopping if I give you a list?'

Andrew grinned, 'Is that all? Sure, no problem.'

'Thanks Andrew, you really are a brick.'

Glad to see her smiling at him again, Andrew took the shopping list and bags without complaint along with Sam and his dad's ration books and the money Sam passed over. Stepping out onto the streets he headed down towards the shops.

Sam meanwhile collected her offspring and began to head towards the Milner's house, smiling as the gazed at the happy looks of the faces of the Hastings residents. A few neighbours greeted her as she made her way through the streets. Sam stopped as she passed the Robert's flower shop, Sam looking through the window as she noticed a woman of about her age working on a display who Sam realized must be Anne. Anne looked up and stepped outside when she saw Sam.

'Hello, you must be Samantha, I'm Anne Roberts.'

Sam smiled and shook her hand, 'Samantha Foyle, nice to meet you. Andrew has told us a lot about you.'

'All good things I hope?'

'Oh yes, I don't think I've ever heard of him singing anybody's praises so highly. I doubt it'll be too long before he starts writing his poetry again at this rate. He actually used to be quite a good wordsmith and used to write reams of poetry when I first knew him.'

Anne frowned, 'and then just like the other survivors who had any kind of creative talent, his experiences stole his muse. I can definitely see that happening to him, the poor dear man. He's sweet, he really is, but I can tell how badly the war hurt him.'

Sam was impressed, 'you're right, but he's doing a lot better now thanks to you.'

Anne smiled as she looked at the children in the pram, 'lovely children Sam, how has Andrew liked being a brother?'

'He's a born natural, and the girls both love him. He gets climbed over quite a bit at home. Christopher said that Andrews mum had them both thoroughly housetrained and Andrew seems to have definitely inherited his father's loving nature around small children. '

Anne giggled, 'oh that's wonderful, and a good sign.'

Sam couldn't help but give her blessing, 'Foyle's have always been hard to resist and you definitely seem to be bringing the best in Andrew back out. Tell you what, why not come to dinner tonight at about six? Christopher wouldn't mind I'm sure.'

'I already agreed to go to the flickers with Andrew this afternoon.'

Sam smiled, 'not a problem, I've got him doing the shopping right now and I can just ask him to bring you to us after the film ends.'

'Jolly good, I'd better get back to work though. Aunt Agatha will be wondering what's taking me so long.'

Sam smiled and waved as she headed on to the Milner's, soon finding Edith quite healthy and feeling rather large and inpatient. Her face soon melting into an adoring smile as she held Caroline and Rose.

'Oh sam they're absolutely gorgeous. I just want mine out, especially now that it looks like the wars going to end.'

Sam looked knowingly at her friend, 'it's all worth it Edie, oh I brought you a few things…'

Sam stayed with Edith for a few hours and gave her some of the clothes that the twins had outgrown before she left her feeling much more cheerful. Andrew had arrived and had unpacked the shopping. The younger Foyle busying himself with the kettle as Sam walked in.

'Good timing Sam, I was just making a brew, you want some?'

Over their tea Sam spoke of her meeting with Anne.

'She's a lovely girl Andrew, your father will be glad to meet her again. Don't mind if you leave the candlelit dinner for another date do you? I invited her to come here after your trip to the flickers.'

Andrew was surprised but pleased, 'no, when I think about it, it's probably a good idea and in fact I've got some good news I want to tell dad as well when he gets back.'

'What news?' Asked Sam.

'I don't know if you ever met Mr Dunning, he's the editor of the Chronicle. I ran into him while I was out and he offered to give me a job interview. Says he needs a new sub editor and that he knew I'd been at Oxford reading literature. You know what they say Sam, never look a gift horse in the mouth.'

Sam hugged him as she gasped, 'oh that's wonderful Andrew, and knowing you like I do. I think journalism would suit you. You've got the right sort of mind for it. And your father and Anne will both be proud. You can tell them both tonight over dinner.'

Andrew perused the copy of the Chronicle that he'd bought and soon found the listings for the Ruby and picked out a new comedy that looked promising.

After lunch Andrew headed down towards the Roberts and found Anne ready to go, a tactful Agatha waving them off with a cheerful.

'Have fun you two, but I want her back by a decent hour Andrew. Now the wars over I expect my niece to be courted as she deserves.'

Andrew soon led the way towards the Ruby and commented.

'I hear you met Sam this morning, how did you find her?'

Anne smiled, 'cheerful, independent, headstrong, a born matron and a lovely person. Your father is a very lucky man.'

Andrew laughed, 'I knew you'd like her. The assistant commissioner probably sent her to dad out of spite, only it ended up blowing up in the old twerps face. God definitely had a field day when he made Sam, mind you her whole family are vicars so that's probably not surprising.'

Anne's eyes sparkled in amusement, 'I hear you're a gifted wordsmith.'

'Sam's probably grossly exaggerated my talents, but yes I used to write poetry. Haven't really written a good one in years though. The last one I wrote just before I left Malta was a bit depressing to be honest.'

Anne couldn't help but be curious, 'let me hear it.'

Andrew recited.

'It's called All Clear.'

"_They've sounded out the last All Clear_

_And told us, those who made it here_

_That very soon we'll hold once more_

_Those things we held dear._

_Yet nothings clear to me._

_I gaze from darkness to a summer daze_

_And though they part, the clouds of war lead only to uncertain days."_

Anne felt her eyes mist, 'that's quite true and I can understand how you felt. I don't think there's many demobs who'd disagree with what you were thinking when you wrote that poem. Sam wasn't exaggerating, you definitely have a gift with words Andrew.'

The newsreel that proceeded the movie was disturbing and though Andrew had seen much of the earlier footage back at the last RAF post he had held in Malta. Even he couldn't keep his anger entirely in check as he saw the latest footage from Germany. Not one person in the audience could keep the anger and disgust off their faces and Anne was in tears, sobbing quietly in Andrew's arms.

'_What a mess, the cost of an entire nation being overcome by madness? Some of those Jerry soldiers look barely old enough to play football, never mind hold a gun. Here we put brown labels on kid's years older than them but over there the authorities gave them guns when they guessed that the Russians were coming.'_

Anne choked out

'I'm sorry Andrew, but that footage, it's inhuman.'

Andrew drew her closer, 'not your fault, when we saw some of the earlier reels just before I was sent home a lot of the pilots went out to be sick.'

The movie started and though it was quite funny and the acting was quite good, it didn't really do much to put Andrew's mind off what they'd just seen in the reel and judging by the look on Anne's face she hadn't forgotten it either.

When it ended, he gently guided her out and back towards Steep Lane, the walk back rather silent compared to the jubilance that was their companion to the Ruby. But when they reached home they were soon cheered by the infectious joy that seemed to have permeated the place in recent years.

Foyle was rather surprised, but pleasantly so as he ushered Anne inside, he noticed the grim looks on both of their faces but from Sam's earlier comments about where they'd been he could guess what had put them both out of sorts.

'Good evening Anne, good to see you again, especially now that both of you are safe from special branch. Please come and join us.'

Andrew drew Anne a chair and asked, 'did you get what you needed in town dad?'

'Yes, sshould be able to wrap up the case tomorrow. I just hope the old tigress doesn't come prowling after me anytime soon.'

Anne looked confused so Andrew filled her in, 'dad's been investigating a murder, one of the members of a victory day committee. He had to go to Town today to see somebody as part of his enquiries. All very hush hush, but considering some of the people he's dealt with over the past few years I'm not surprised he's managed to get tangled up with people in intelligence.'

'Why not?'

'Sam and dad have been telling me the most amazing story about how they were drawn together and the sorts of people they had to deal with. Corrupt senior officers, a belligerent Spanish diplomat, an armed Jerry spy, idiot kids with explosives, and a crazed wannabe gangster. So another spy is hardly more than another chapter, even if it would be a rather interesting one. Believe me Anne, dad and Sam's story would make for several bestsellers, even though a lot of dangerous people probably wouldn't like us printing it.

Sam asked, 'you really think our story would make a good book?'

Andrew grinned, 'are you joking Sam, it's got all the ingredients of a Hollywood epic! Lonely widower policeman and war veteran meets beautiful young woman sent to assist him. Said couple fall instantly in love and get drawn into all sorts of chaos stirred up in a world gone mad. Policeman tries to resist the charms of his charming young companion out of a sense of propriety while said lady tries to hide her feelings out of a sense of respect. Only for both of them to admit their feelings and get married after several near death experiences. Good triumphs and the pair settle down to raise a family, while many assorted villains get thrown into prison as the evil dictator causing most of the chaos around them dies a rather pathetic death.'

Foyle arched his brow at the sound of both his wife and potential daughter in laws laughter and said simply.

'Wwell, bit more to it than that Andrew.'

'Still, you have to see how the people would love it.'

'Mmmight be worth talking to your friend Bruce once the government changes the laws on official secrets. Rrrather not see you stuck in prison again now you've actually brought a nice young lady home with you.'

Sam had outdone herself and by the time dinner was over, everyone was feeling full and contented. Andrew's announcement of a possible job was welcomed by all, all giving him their congratulations. Foyle smiling knowingly at the look Anne was sending to his son and resolving to retrieve a letter he kept upstairs. The drowsy twins who had both loved their visitor had just been taken upstairs by Sam and Foyle while Anne beamed across at Andrew.

'This is better than any fancy candlelit dinner Andrew, your family are so wonderful.'

Andrew took her hand and grinned, 'as if they wouldn't love you Annie, you bring out the best in me. You're a florist, you're used to bringing out the best in late bloomers.'

Anne laughed, 'oh you, flatterer.'

A clearing throat announced the return of Sam and Foyle and the elder smiled at his son and said.

'Getting a bit late Andrew, pprrobably best to take Anne home before Agatha sends a search party.'

After bidding their goodbyes, Andrew felt the sensation of somebodies hand in his pocket and noticed his father standing behind him with a look of total innocence and mild amusement.

'_What's he up to?'_

As Andrew led Anne towards the flower shop she asked him.

'What did your father give you, just now? I could have sworn I saw him put something in your pocket.'

Andrew checked his pockets and pulled out an aged envelope. The light of a nearby streetlamp revealed a rather legalese heavy letter inside which dated to 1933. Andrew read it through with a look of astonishment before he laughed.

'_Cheeky old devil, now I can call you a hypocrite on matchmaking efforts as well.'_

'Seems like my father is as prone to matchmaking as my godmother. This, my dear is a letter to his solicitor. When my mum died, dad placed all her jewellery in trust along with the deeds to a house that belonged to my maternal grandparents in _ Street as well as a sum of money from my dad's family. All of that is to go to me on my marriage, with the jewellery to only be released upon the delivery of this letter that dad was to hand over to me when I brought home a woman he approved of.'

Anne's jaw dropped, 'oh my goodness, what will you do?'

Andrew smiled, 'well if the war taught me one lesson, it was never to rush into things like this. Rushing blindly into a marriage would be a very bad idea even if the woman is an absolute corker. So once I'm settled into my new job and doing well, and if things are still working out between us….'

Anne looked radiant, 'Handsome, a flatterer, and smart, I think you're a definite keeper Andrew Foyle.'

Andrew pulled Anne into his arms and kissed her deeply, both of them lost in the visions of the future. After a long moment they drew apart and Andrew led Anne the rest of the way back to the flower shop where they parted with another lingering kiss, which soon drew a fond rebuke from an unseen watcher in the shop window.

'Do try not to eat Annie's face dear boy, at least not before you make an honest woman out of my niece.'

Both blushed and sprang apart before Andrew waved to them both and hurried home clutching the letter before he found his father and Sam waiting for him.

'Dad, you are now officially a more shameless matchmaker than Aunt Elaine and Aunt Helen combined.'

Sam giggled as Foyle raised his brow fondly, 'rrread it then did you? Trust you didn't jump the gun.'

'No, figured I'd wait until I'm at least settled in if I get this job at the Chronicle and then if we're still walking out, go from there. Better not waste too much time though or Aunt Elaine will probably handcuff me to Susan and put us on a train to Scotland when I next go to their house.'

'Doubt she'd go that far, besides. I do believe Susan already has a beau if my powers of observation haven't deserted me, even if her mother doesn't yet realise it.'

'Trustworthy I hope,' said Andrew.

'Trustworthy, if a bit mischievous and fun loving.'


	9. Chapter 9

Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/Anne Roberts. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter, Casualties of War, Plan of Attack and All Clear.

_Authors Note: Here we come to the last chapter of my first outing into Anthony Horowitz's masterwork. Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing my story. I don't think I've ever written a fic that's had so much support so quickly. Look out for my planned one shots in the near future as they'll show a bit more of the action that's "off camera" in this fic._

Chapter 9: 8th May 1945: All Clear

Andrew saw the look on his father's face that morning and knew instantly that something was up. It seemed that Sam had spotted it as well as she said.

'You're wearing your "cry havoc" look Christopher, you know who did it, don't you?'

Foyle smiled, 'the information Miss Pierce gave me has given me the last pieces of the puzzle, so now I can make the arrest.'

Andrew perused the paper and joked, 'just as well, if the state of Jane's uniform yesterday was anything to go by.'

'Andrew,' came Sam's admonition.

'You sound like Hugh,' said Foyle.

'Any word on Mrs Milner?' Asked Andrew.

'Foyle smiled, 'Paul will probably be in this morning to tell us.'

'Maybe I should look in on Edith this morning,' said Sam, 'the first days are always the hardest, even with only the one baby.'

'Jolly good,' said Foyle, 'what about you Andrew?'

'I only ever met Milner once and that was when that Henderson chap was after me, so I might as well introduce myself properly. I'll talk to uncle Hugh while I'm there, aunt Elaine still wants me over for dinner.'

So the Foyle family soon separated for their different destinations, Andrew idly walking through the streets of Hastings until he eventually came upon the old police station. He'd only ever gone in a few times when he'd been growing up and so he wasn't as familiar with the place as Sam. But even so he still felt the slight sadness as the gazed around at the evidence of the contents of the building being packed up.

Andrew noticed a gaggle of uniformed police officers standing around the front desk and one of them, a rather cheery looking sergeant with a Cheshire grin detached himself from the group as he noticed Andrew come in.

'Morning, you need something mate? Should think most of the crims would be taking the day off today, unless you're reporting more spivs selling flags.'

Andrew shook his head, 'just wondering if dad had brought his man in yet, or if a sergeant Milner was in.'

'Oh, you must be the boss's son. I'm Sergeant Brooke, your dads not 'ere yet as he would've taken the prisoner to the new building on Wilder Road. Mr Milner's not 'ere yet either, 'is wife just had a baby yesterday.'

'So I've heard, is Hugh Reid still here?'

Andrew soon noticed the neat figure of his godfather coming towards him, a broad grin adorning his features.

'Andrew! Elaine told me you were back, how are you doing?'

Andrew grinned, 'well I've been better, but I'm getting there. Things are a lot better now I've talked things through with dad and Sam and apologized for being an absolute prig.'

'I was your dad's best man at the wedding you know. Once everyone in Hastings had gotten over the shock of the age gap, it was impossible to disapprove of Sam and even the waggling tongues of the matrons soon fell silent. I could tell that Sam had your dad wrapped around her little finger pretty quick after they'd confessed to each other in 42. Believe it or not, if there was an appropriate commendation for it, I'd put Paul Milner in for making this nick a much happier place. Honestly, there were times the tension was so thick, one could cut it with a knife.'

Brooke and the other uniforms burst out laughing at this just as Foyle came in with a look of satisfaction on his face, leading Milner, and a young woman of about 20 with red hair and green eyes that Andrew recognized immediately.

Andrew was shocked, '_Susan, she's definitely grown.'_

With a sudden feminine squeal of 'Andrew!'

Andrew soon felt the wind being crushed out of him as Susan did her best to squeeze him to death. Andrew tickled her sides to coax her off him which set the young woman giggling as she drew away, before she took a deep breath.

'Mummy told us you were safe Andy, and you're looking a lot better than what she said. Lyddie, Cecelia and I were going to drag you around to the house tomorrow if daddy hadn't given us more news by tonight.'

'You're looking well Susie, you've really grown since I was last here. Hope Hastings hasn't been too boring or dangerous for you without me around.'

Susan giggled, 'hardly, just when I got to an interesting age all the local men my age had gone. Jerry was a danger we all had to get used to pretty quick but we managed somehow. I ended up signing up for fire watching on top of my job at the law firm, about the only war work mum would let me do after dad kept on telling her all these ridiculous stories.'

She finished with a huff, 'honestly, I'm not made of glass Andy and nor am I as naïve as she thinks I am. Spend enough time around here and around solicitors and you learn a lot.'

Andrew smiled over at his godfather, 'uncle Hugh still needs his head screwed on in the mornings then.'

Susan giggled at the put out look on her father's face just as Brooke began pouring Champagne into mismatched mugs and glasses.

'Thought we'd celebrate the new arrival sir, bona fide French Champagne.'

'Where'd you get that?'

'From the evidence room sir, sadly the label seems to have gone missing.'

Andrew saw the look on the sergeant's face and guessed it had gone "missing" on purpose and judging by his father's face, Andrew wasn't the only one who'd spotted it.

'A boy or a girl?' Asked Andrew.

'A girl, thank heavens,' said the obviously relieved Milner.

Hugh Reid waved his finger, 'now Paul, don't think for a second that girls are any easier.'

Susan pouted, 'daddy, don't you love us? Honestly, don't scare him off.'

Hugh looked alarmed, 'Susan, I didn't mean it like that.'

Andrew saw the teasing look on her face and the classic, "why me?' expression on Uncle Hugh's as everyone laughed.

'Oh dear Hugh, ambushed by your own daughter?' Joked Foyle.

'Just you wait Christopher, you'll be eating your words soon enough.'

Sam arrived at the station pushing the pram holding the girls with Anne following her, both women soon joining their significant others as the last of Brooke's "liberated" Champagne was poured into glasses as a long awaited announcement came on over the radio.

Andrew found the speech somewhat anticlimactic, such a long war ended with a speech from the PM lasting only a few minutes. The remnants of the world's elegance that had survived the first war all but destroyed in a conflict of previously unimagined death and destruction.

A massive cheer erupted in the streets that was clearly audible inside the police station as Andrew said.

'So that's it then, five years of total chaos and it's all over with one speech from the Prime Minister?'

Anne squeezed his shoulder and whispered, 'no, it isn't over. That speech was simply marking the end of one world and the beginning of another. Now come on, I believe you and I have a party to get to.'

Anne gently tugged on his arm and Andrew put his glass down and began to follow her lead.

'Dad, you coming? It's going to be mad out there.'

'No, you two go on ahead and enjoy yourselves. Sam and I will find you later on, but do remember to get Anne back to Agatha at a decent hour.'

Andrew waved and left, noticing as he did so that Susan was pulling a grinning Brooke into the crowd with her.'

'_So that's what dad meant.'_

The party ran all day and well into the night, Anne and Andrew dancing until they could both barely stand. Andrew was getting a lot of attention from the Hastings locals, as food and drink was shoved into his hand. Determined women did their best to try and flirt with him as they noticed the lack of a ring on his finger, much to Anne's annoyance. Andrew in the old days probably would have enjoyed it, but found it as much of a trial as Anne and so did his best to let them down gently.

Eventually, a rather tired Andrew and Anne found themselves sitting beside a large bonfire that a group of vaguely familiar kids had built. Together they watched as the kids set fire to a series of rather comical effigies of Hitler and his high command. An ARP warden produced fireworks and began setting them off, much to the delight of the children that had gathered around the fire to watch the spectacle.

Anne smiled at the children's antics before she turned to Andrew and asked him.

'It's so simple for them, isn't it? The good people won, but what do you think is going to happen now?'

Andrew put his arm around his girlfriend who leaned into his embrace as he began.

'Well, the world will never be the same again. Too much has changed for everything to go back to the way it was. A lot of things got invented in this war too, just like in the last one and I suppose everyone will find ways of putting all that gadgetry to better use. Take radar for example, you used it to spot Jerries and keep us on course in bad weather. Now we can probably use it to keep track of civvy aircraft as well, make commercial flights a lot safer. Jerry invented way better planes than we had, not to mention those blasted rockets they kept on shooting at us. Everyone will want to find better uses for those. No, the whole world is going to be different, especially for the young, like Caro and Rosie and little Clementine Milner. Just a shame that so many people had to die to make that possible.'

Anne gently stroked Andrew's cheek and kissed him before she said, 'they didn't die in vain, and nobody will ever forget their sacrifice.'

'I know that, still, it'll be good to finally say goodbye to this uniform. I may not have "gone for soldier" like dad did, but I can understand why he never wanted to talk about it now. I don't think anybody really could understand unless they'd actually lived through it.'

One of the kids noticed Andrew's RAF uniform and asked him.

'Hey mister, did you shoot down many Jerries?'

Andrew shuddered but did his best, 'too many, when I was up there, you didn't usually see the faces of the Jerry pilots. We never had time to really think about it, but every single one of the occupants of those planes had families, just like us. They all had people on the ground that cared about them. Parents, brothers and sisters, cousins, nieces and nephews, wives and children. The only thing that really made us different was the fact that they were there because Hitler and Goering ordered them to be. The Nazi command were the real villains of the war, they're the ones who caused all of this chaos. Think yourself lucky if you never have to fight in a war, because there's no glory in it.'

The young lad had been quiet, and Andrew felt a bit guilty and fished a shilling out of his pocket. 'Nice work on the effigies though, haven't seen a good bonfire night since before the war.'

He tossed the coin to the boy who caught it with a grin as he hurried over to his friends.

Anne smiled, 'you handled that pretty well, but don't you think a shilling might have been a little much?'

Andrew shrugged, 'if I can spare that kid from having to go through what I did, it was worth it. Besides, I've got a lot of fond memories of Rex and me collecting for Guy Fawkes Night with our mates from when I was that age.'

Anne sensed a bad memory and asked, 'he was a pilot as well?'

Andrew smiled sadly as he remembered his friend, 'he got the chop in a dogfight over the channel just after dad finished an investigation into a petrol racket in Bexhill. It's strange though, when I think back, it was almost as if he knew he wasn't coming back that day when we took off.'

'At least he died with honour Andrew.'

Andrew looked at his watch and inwardly cursed as he noticed the time, gently leading Anne back through the streets, still full of revellers dancing the night away. As they reached the front of the flower shop Anne drew him into her arms.

'I don't know what the future's going to bring Andrew, but at least now we have our time to face it together.'

Andrew smiled and pulled her into a chaste kiss, remembering his last goodnight outside the shop.

'I love you Anne, and you're absolutely right.'

Anne smiled serenely, 'I love you to Andrew, the wars over and tomorrow is a new day.'

**Five Years Later**

Andrew Foyle led his wife and son over the threshold of his father and Sam's house on Steep Lane, mindful of the precious load his wife held in her arms. Two identical blonde whirlwinds ran across the room and did their best to knock him down as he entered the living room.

'Andrew, Auntie Annie.'

'You're both late.'

'Not up to no good again I hope?'

'Mummy and daddy will not be…'

'Amused,' they both chorused with a giggle.

Andrew laughed softly at his sister's antics as he hugged them tight and kissed their cheeks. Both of the girls had inherited Sam's cheery nature and her curiosity, and also the sharp eyes and intelligence of their father. Very little got past them and so Andrew told the truth.

'Never could hide anything from you two, could we? But it's a hard job running a newspaper and helping Annie with our little Angela. Say, where are dad and your mummy?'

'They're upstairs with Matt.'

'Shall we go get them?'

Anne smiled down at the girls, 'go on, and then you can all play with Charlie, but do try not to wake Angela up again, she's only three months old. Remember what happened when you came to play at our house last week? It took me quite some effort to settle her after you woke her from her nap.'

Andrew bent down to his son, 'you heard her my lad, and remember, no waking your sister.'

'Ok dad.'

Andrew smiled and ruffled his boy's hair before he watched the girls lead his and Anne's son upstairs. The trio soon returning with Sam and his father, just as a knocking came from the door. Andrew let his brother and sister in law inside as Jack greeted him.

'Not late are we Andrew?'

Foyle called to them all, 'no, you're all right on time.'

Time had been kind to the Foyle family, Sam giving birth to a boy almost exactly nine months after VE day whom they christened Matthew. Who was soon joined a few months later by his playmate and best friend Charles or "Charlie" as he was soon dubbed by his proud father.

'How's the newspaper business these days Andrew?' asked Sam.

Andrew shrugged, 'I'm only the editor because of a case of "dead man's shoes" but it's good work and Cecelia is a very efficient secretary. Although my office still reeks of stale tobacco thanks to my predecessor, Lord knows how he found enough cigarettes to meet his habit during the war. The pay rise was welcome, but it means I don't get to spend nearly as much time as I want to with Anne and the kids.'

Jack smiled, 'I know what you mean, and Laura and I haven't got any children yet. I hardly ever saw Sir Charles when I was growing up, and I definitely don't want to follow that example when the time comes.'

Foyle watched as Lady Laura whispered something into her husband's ear which made his eldest son's face split into the widest grin he had ever seen as tears leaked from his eyes before he pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her.

'Congratulations,' was all he said as he arched his brow and smiled.

'Thanks dad, has "the office" let you go yet?'

Foyle shrugged, as he had suspected Hilda Pierce had indeed returned to call in her favour for getting him the documents. Recruiting him to MI5 in 1946 in exchange for assisting him in pressuring the Americans to extradite Senator Howard Paige to stand trial for murder and forcing him to settle a large sum of money on his victim's family. During the time he had spent working for her, he had actually grown almost fond of the woman and was rather upset when she had finally taken her own life at the climax of the PLATO affair.

'Wwell, they're saying they don't need me right now so they've let me come back here for a while. But soon enough they'll probably have some other murky waters for me to delve into. The office is a difficult place to leave once you're inside it.'

'How are Brooke and Susan going?' Asked Anne.

'Very well,' said Foyle, 'the corruption scandal that erupted over the racketeering business cleared out a lot of the top brass who were in on it. That led to accelerated promotion for a lot of good coppers like him and Paul and Hugh and I did put in a few good words for both of them. Hugh got promoted to commissioner a few months ago and at the rate he's going, Brooke will end up going at least as far as Superintendent by the time he's forty.'

'No more self-important twerps bugging us from London then dear?' asked Sam.

'No, unless you count Hugh?' said Foyle with a perfectly straight face as his family laughed.

Foyle gazed around at his family, Sam sitting to his right still as beautiful as the day she'd first marched into his office. His elder sons and their wives, both doing well in their chosen lives and the children and grandchildren around him. His eyes landed on the framed photograph of Rosalind just as he felt Sam's hand squeeze his and saw her knowing smile.

'Can't go anywhere without you my dearest,' he whispered.

'Still a long ways to travel yet my darling.'


End file.
